Rumours
by Bookjunk
Summary: Set a few weeks after the series finale. Reese discovers that the station is buzzing with rumours about Crews and herself. Her changed feelings in combination with these rumours cause her to examine their relationship. Perhaps they are more than partners.
1. Second hand news

**Chapter 1: Second hand news **

'Crews did suggest we check into a hotel room, but in the end we were more hungry than horny, so we just had lunch. And you know how I'm so over having sex with only one man. We would have had to call people and in the end it just didn't seem worth the hassle.'

Crews was rubbing his neck, apparently extremely embarrassed to be witnessing this conversation, but Reese was just staring at Tidwell. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her head was cocked to the side in that determined way that Crews had come to know so well. He didn't have to look at her face to know she was pissed off. Not that he had any idea why she was angry. Tidwell had merely asked, in his curious manner pertaining to all things Reese, where they had been during lunchtime. Slowly, Crews started to inch towards the door, until he realised clarifying matters might be a better strategy.

'I didn't say any of that. I was hungry. Definitely hungry. For lunch. Which we had,' Crews explained. Now both Tidwell and Reese were staring daggers at him and he cleared his throat in the awkward pause that followed.

'I'll just go now,' he finally said and as he escaped the room he felt immense relief wash over him. That had been tense. Lovers' quarrel, undoubtedly. Nothing to do with him.

(***)

Dani watched Crews go. She didn't like how she watched him or how she felt when he was in the same room. Something fundamental had definitely changed, since Crews, like a complete idiot, had traded himself against her and gotten into that car with Roman. She knew Kevin had probably asked Crews why he had done that, but she hadn't inquired what Crews' answer had been. The truth was that she didn't want to know.

So, after encountering Crews standing at the side of the road – no Roman in sight - she had simply punched him in the shoulder and told him never to do that again. Faintly amused, he had nodded meekly and that had been the last of it. Except in her own damn mind, of course, because it wasn't a thing a partner did. They were just partners and Crews had practically sacrificed his life to rescue her.

Partners were not... they did not do _that_. They had each other's backs and they helped each other, but they didn't deliver themselves into the arms of one of the most dangerous criminals they knew. That was not... They didn't do that. With considerable difficulty, she focused her attention on Kevin and Kevin was a perceptive man, so naturally he noticed her concentration troubles.

'What is it exactly that you're accusing me of?' she asked. There was an edge to her voice that she wished wasn't there. She knew this entire conversation was out of line. The way she spoke to him, the subject they were discussing, her attitude; everything was insubordination. Suddenly, she wasn't only the cliché woman who was in a relationship with her boss, but they were actually discussing their personal issues at the work place. She really really didn't like this.

'I think your reaction is inappropriate, Dani. I'm your boss and I asked you a reasonable question. You know you can't speak to me like that in front of Charlie,' Tidwell scolded her. It was a typical light scolding. It was another thing in a long line of things she didn't like. Why didn't he yell at her? Ever since the kidnapping, he treated her as if she was breakable, which she fucking wasn't. It was infuriating. At least, even though everything else between them had changed, Crews still treated her exactly the same.

'Your anger is misplaced. I've said it before and I'll say it again; I recommend you see the new department therapist,' Tidwell said as he moved behind his desk. Dani scoffed loudly at the suggestion. She'd already suffered through the mandatory therapy session and she wasn't about to willingly go to that annoying woman again. Crews had visited her too, because of his crazy rampage. They'd both mostly kept silent, not wanting the therapist to find out too much about their sojourn.

'Yeah, I've seen her. Roaming the halls searching for victims. The day I shoot someone unprovoked is the day I'm going into therapy,' Dani offered. Tidwell chuckled and sat down in his chair. Now she could almost look down at him and she realised what he was doing. He was surrendering his position of advantage to her by sitting down, so that she'd be more likely to be kind and give him what he wanted. Not gonna happen.

'First of all, provoked means something else with you than it does with everybody else. Secondly, and this might seem strange to you, but I would prefer it if you went into therapy before that happened. I'd like to prevent you killing someone, you know,' Tidwell joked. He was right in a way, which only served to fuel her anger. There was so much of the anger that she didn't know where to aim it and for the last few weeks Kevin had borne the brunt of it.

Anger instead of fear; it was kind of her go-to emotion. Being kidnapped by Roman hadn't been a picnic and she had been afraid. Not hysterical crying damsel in distress afraid, because she simply didn't know how to do damsel in distress. It was outside of her acting range. It had been a healthy and justified fear that she had fostered, since Roman was a psychopath protected by the FBI and he didn't play by the rules.

However, she was tough and she knew that Crews was coming for her. The worst thing about the whole ordeal had been when she'd walked past Crews during the exchange. Knowing that now she was safe, but he was in danger. She'd realised that she'd never been more afraid in her life than at the moment when their hands didn't touch. Fuck, she had thought.

'Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot anybody,' she reassured him and, after a beat, added, 'Unprovoked.' He chuckled again, but looked earnestly at her. It was nothing like the penetrating gaze of a certain pair of blue eyes and she felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

'I am worried. I am worried about you, Dani. You're behaving irrationally.'

'Well, I _am_ a woman...' she dryly replied, but her words lacked the necessary acidity. Kevin's concern for her irked her. Normal, that was all she wanted. Just back to business as usual with Tidwell being her captain at the station and Kevin being her boyfriend at home and Crews being Crews everywhere else all the time. Said Crews rapped on the door, stuck his head inside, mumbled that they had a case to attend to and vanished.

'He could use some therapy too. For the prison experience and how he once a year goes incommunicado and dead cops and criminals pop up all over the place, while half the force is searching for him. You're quite the pair,' Tidwell remarked and Dani hid a smile. She opened the door, almost glad to escape. Crews was sitting at his desk, waiting for her, but before she reached him she encountered a series of curious glances and gossipy whispers.

It had been like this since the kidnapping. Dani had kind of thought, and hoped, the novelty would have worn off by now. Unfortunately, people continued to regard Crews and her as some sort of tourist attraction. She stared down a couple of beat cops, but once she passed them they resumed their conversation. This time she actually overheard a fragment.

'Crews traded himself for her! Of course they're bumping uglies. How else do you explain that?'

Sharply turning, she tried to discern who it was who had spoken, but nearly everyone was staring at her and the low hum of office talk had disguised the voice. Trying to regain some of her dignity, she stalked off in Crews' direction and barked at him.

'Car. I'm driving.'

He followed her, mumbling about how she was always the one who drove, but swiftly shutting his mouth when he saw the expression on her face. In the station parking lot, she slammed the door too loudly and almost drove off before Crews had properly gotten into the car. He gave her directions to the crime scene. She speeded, she didn't signal and once she missed a little old lady with a walker by an inch. That caused her to calm down. Instead, she fiercely drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

'What's...?' Crews cautiously asked, but she answered without giving him any chance to finish his question.

'They think we're dating,' she hissed. She glanced at him and he was taking a bite out of one of his damn apples, entirely unconcerned. He knew, she realised. His expression of feigned surprise wasn't fooling anyone and she didn't think it was meant to.

'You knew? Ah, you must like this,' Dani spit out. Bemused, Crews looked at her and slowly chewed his fruit.

'Like what?' he asked, pushing the words around the mashed bits of apple with difficulty.

'I'm a slut, but you're the guy who bagged Reese,' she bit at him. Now, he started to pay attention it seemed, but only to ask her what bagged meant.

'Never mind,' she muttered. This was typical. Of course, he didn't care. He was too Zen to care. Well, she could be Zen too. That lasted a few seconds and then she started to mutter things about being the laughing stock of the station and wanting to have a serious conversation with the person who had started this ridiculous rumour. Crews finished his apple and donned his contemplative look when he regarded her. I swear to God, if he quotes one of his tapes, I'll shoot him, Dani thought.

'Look, if it bothers you that much, we'll find the person who spread the rumour. But people have thought worse things of me, remember? For twelve years everybody thought I killed my best friend and his family,' he reminded Dani and leaned over her to dispose of the apple core. Ashamed, she bit her lip. Crews was usually – aside from his annual going off the radar trips – so well-adjusted that she sometimes did forget his twelve year stint in prison and the resentment he must still harbour for being falsely accused of such a horrible crime.

'That does seem a bit worse,' she admitted. When she glanced at him again, he didn't seem fazed at all. He gently nodded with his face turned towards the sunlight. It was how he had been standing when she'd found him after the exchange with Roman. Letting the sunlight warm his face and breathing the fresh air. Just enjoying freedom and life, she guessed. Despite his annoying behaviour and mystifying and grating calmness, she was glad to have him back.

(***)

That night.

'At the station, they think Crews and I are dating. Is that why you asked us that question?' Dani asked. The bedroom was dark, so she couldn't see Kevin's face, which was a small relief. It meant he couldn't see her face either. That was a comforting thought, because she was afraid that at times her facial expressions blatantly betrayed her emotions. Emotions she wasn't entirely sure of yet.

'Yes. I was jealous, but it isn't because of the rumours,' he confessed. He placed his chin on her bare shoulder from behind. The stubble on his chin grazed her skin. Lately, she'd discovered herself wondering what this would feel like with Crews. His body so different from Kevin's... Luckily, she managed to catch herself in time, before she went too far. Because Crews was just her partner. Nothing more. An irritating voice in the back of her mind would bring up the exchange, but she didn't have an explanation, so she ignored it.

'You're behaving differently since Charlie saved you. I feel like someone has taken my place,' Kevin whispered. His life for hers. Crews' life for Reese's, she drowsily thought. Now was the time to say something. Something like, 'I love you' or at the very least, 'no one has taken your place,' but she found she couldn't. She mumbled goodnight and nestled in his arms, imagining they were someone else's.

(***)

Author' note:

The title of the story is from the album _Rumours_ by Fleetwood Mac and the chapter titles are songs from the same album.


	2. Dreams

**Chapter 2: Dreams **

_Dani__ is wandering through a ludicrously immense house. There's hardly any furniture. It isn't until she sees the front door and the stairs leading to the second floor that she realises it is Charlie's house._

'_Charlie?' she calls out. Her feet are cold. When she looks down, she sees she doesn't have any shoes on. Her bare feet feel strange on the unfamiliar floor.__Why doesn't she have any shoes on? Upon further inspection, she notices that the only thing she is wearing is one of Charlie's light blue shirts. They match the colour of his eyes so nicely. She begins to climb the stairs._

'_Charlie?' she calls out a second time. Again no one answers, but the silence doesn't scare her. All she is afraid of is running into Ted. The second floor is also huge. There must be at least ten doors, but she knows exactly which one will lead to their bedroom. _

_As__ she opens the door and sees him lying in the bed, a warm feeling spreads through her chest. His red hair looks extra fiery on the striped pillow. One of his arms is slung over the sheets. It is very pale and long. She smiles. Suddenly, she is holding a tray with fruit. Yet, it is not sudden at all. She was carrying it the entire time._

_Quietly, she sets the tray__ down on the nightstand and gets into bed besides Charlie. He stirs and turns towards her. Every red eye lash is visible in the weak morning light as he languidly opens his eyes. He beams at her and the feeling in her chest warms her all over. _

_The tangy scent of __oranges fills the room as she takes an orange of the tray and begins to peel it. Her hands are soon covered in those weird, shiny silver scales of the orange's skin. Carefully, she divides the orange into two halves and starts to separate the parts. Her fingers curl around a single slice in delicious anticipation of what is about to come. She brings the orange slice to Charlie's mouth and his lips close around it, softly caressing her fingertips. _

_He looks at her. One corner of his mouth turns up, but he manages to maintain an innocent expression. _What? Me? What did I do?_ Deep inside her stomach she feels a laugh bubbling up, but she stifles it and lifts another slice to his mouth. Charlie's mouth engulfs her fingers again and the warm wetness arouses her. His lips are sticky with orange juice and she leans towards him. Slowly, her tongue slides over his lips. She can feel him smiling as she kisses him._

_With a bit more force than necessary, she pushes him onto his back. The pale skin on his shoulders flushes under her grip. She likes how easily his skin turns red, as if she'__s leaving, albeit temporary, her mark on him. Charlie is mine, the fast fading, finger shaped blemishes say and that is the way it is supposed to be. From behind, his hands slip underneath the shirt she is wearing and stroke her back. Expertly, his long, slender fingers trace figures along her spine._

'Dani? Dani?'

She mumbled something vague into her pillow and opened her eyes slightly. Through her eye lashes, she examined the man before her, who was definitely not Crews. Fuck, what a singularly disturbing dream, she thought.

'Dani?' Kevin asked again and chagrined she turned around. Now she faced the ceiling. Dani licked her lips. No lingering taste of any kind of fruit on them.

'Yeah, I'm up,' she muttered. A glance at the alarm clock revealed that it was time to shower and get dressed and generally prepare for work. With Crews. Whom she most decidedly did not just have an erotic dream about. What a way to start the day. She closed her eyes, remembered much too vividly the sensation of kissing Crews, and immediately opened them again. Pausing midway in pulling on his trousers, Kevin paused and regarded her wearily.

'You okay?'

'Fine. Nightmare,' she lied and avoided his questioning gaze. Why was it a lie anyway? She had a man and she didn't need or want to dream about Crews. So, it wasn't a lie, really. It had been a nightmare. One that had her skin still tingling and that had brought a rare blush to her face, but a nightmare nonetheless. Quickly, she got out of bed and slipped into the bathroom. During her shower, she kept flashing back to the dream.

The thing that rattled her the most was the fact that in the dream the bedroom had been their bedroom. Not Crews' bedroom that she occasionally visited for casual sex; no, it was _their_ bedroom. She lived together with Crews, they were a couple, and she loved Crews. Viciously, she scrubbed the shampoo into her hair, trying to wash it all away. Lather, rinse, repeat.

On the kitchen counter, a glass filled to the brim with freshly squeezed orange juice was waiting for her. She eyed it suspiciously and actually poked at the glass to make sure it was not an illusion. What was it doing here, intruding so rudely on reality, while she was busy trying to escape the dream?

'You mumbled something about orange juice,' Kevin offered. Her behaviour seemed to bewilder him. With her back to him, she thanked him and gulped it down in one go. Tasted better when I was licking it..., she thought and choked. A protracted bout of coughing mercifully prevented her from finishing the thought. Kevin slapped her back, kindly attempting to help, but she navigated her way out of his reach.

'See you at the station,' she called out and closed the door of the apartment; their apartment. See, they actually _were_ living together, they _were _a couple. That their living arrangement and relationship status had kind of snuck up on her didn't change anything. Right now, for all intents and purposes, she was with Kevin. And she loved him. Did she, though? Did she love Kevin? She didn't know. Oh for fuck's sake, stop thinking Dani, she admonished herself. Just stop.

(***)

Crews was wearing the same suit he had been wearing the day of the exchange. Same shirt too. Dani had no idea why she remembered this. It had nothing to do with her newfound habit of noticing things about him, like the intense manner in which he sometimes stared at her or how his hand would softly brush against hers as they walked to the car. Seeing, really seeing, Crews was not weird. She was a detective; she was perceptive. The suit was merely a memory she had retained because that day had been fairly traumatic. Not I-need-to-see-a-therapist traumatic, but definitely memory jogging traumatic.

So, it was the same suit he'd worn when he had crushed Roman's windpipe. Just an observation. His hand reached into the pocket of his jacket and he took out one of his infernal tapes. Surprised, he looked at the tape and smiled absentmindedly.

'We're not listening to that,' she warned him and he turned towards her. A smile tugged at his lips and she had to focus on the road to keep from answering with a smile of her own.

'Didn't know that was in there,' he said and returned the tape to his pocket. From his other pocket, an orange magically appeared. Calmly, he started to peel it. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel and she stifled a groan. It was like one big cosmic joke at her expense.

'You've got to be kidding me,' she muttered.

'Want some, Reese?' he offered. He neatly deposited the orange peels into the tiny garbage container in the door of the car. The rich aroma of the fruit wafted in her direction and she quickly pushed the button to open her window. However, even with the citrusy fragrance gone, she could still practically taste it on her lips. Crews held out half the orange to her and she pressed her lips together.

'No, thanks,' she gritted out.

'You know, if Seever was here, maybe we wouldn't have to go to R&I. She has an eidetic memory. She's going to be mayor,' Crews explained, enthusiastically. Dani had heard this before. Many, many times. It was similar to the Zen crap; he would just not shut up about it. If this Seever was so great, then why didn't he ask to be Seever's partner? She knew why. Deep down she knew.

'Too bad I don't have a freaking photographic memory and can't speed read and have no long-term plan, huh?' Dani asked. There was that edge again. It was a smidgen more hostile than her usual crankiness. Crews frowned at her and popped the last slice into his mouth. After thoughtfully eating that, he sucked on his bottom lip, which was not sexy or anything.

'No. I like you just the way you are,' he earnestly replied. She rolled her eyes at him and herself and the world at large and parked the car. Before he could get out another soppy sentiment, she got out of the car. He trailed behind her.

The Records and Identification Division was a not a place she liked to go to. In her humble opinion, it was filled with losers who could never hack it in the field or washed up former detectives who couldn't cut it in the field anymore. Never-weres and has-beens, respectively. Plus, they were living in the future, sort of. They had computers, internet, so it really chapped her ass that they had to visit a depressing basement to look at badly organised files whenever a criminal's record went back more than twenty-five years.

Behind the desk, a typical never-was specimen was devouring his lunch. By the looks of it, his lunch had once been a burger, but now it was all kinds of gross. Dani couldn't look away as the man sprayed bits of burger across his desk in an attempt to speak. She was hardly a stickler for etiquette, but Crews was the only person who could speak to her with food in his mouth and not completely disgust her.

'Hi Detective Dani Reese,' the man eventually managed to get out. His use of her full name confused her. Was she supposed to know this dweeb?

'Hi...' she stammered and after a pleading glance from her, Crews whispered his name, '...Tony.'

The man seemed delighted that she had remembered his name and she smiled gratefully at Crews. He shrugged, but she detected an amused glint in his eyes. They were directed to a subsection of the basement, where they were left to their own devices. The air was hot and stuffy, so she immediately took off her jacket. She had always thought _Cold Case_ was a ridiculous depiction of record keeping – amongst other things – until she had been forced to visit the R&I. Steel cases were full of cardboard boxes with barely legible case numbers and names.

They quickly deduced that the boxes weren't organised alphabetically or in chronological order or by case number. Plainly speaking, they weren't organised at all. Well, they were divided by year. That was something, though Dani only needed one glance to spot two boxes that clearly didn't belong in the 1973 section. She sighed and didn't look at Crews' light blue shirt when he also took off his suit jacket.

It was a trying afternoon. Tony brought them a few bottles of water, but Dani had trouble with summoning a feeling of gratitude for his kindness. If he hadn't brought them, they would have had an excuse to leave the basement for a few wonderful minutes. As it was, they sweated and hydrated their way through the day. Crews' face was continually flushed with the exertion of having to haul boxes up and down and the lack of air conditioning.

At about four o'clock ,when Dani was about to announce that she'd had enough, they stumbled upon the right file. Literally. Crews was taking down a box, while she was shoving another one out of her way. The offending box accidentally slid into his path and as he stumbled the box he was holding was dropped to the floor. On her knees, she watched as Crews slowly fell towards her. Their combined weight crushed a fair amount of files and when she tore her gaze away from his eyes, she happened to read the case number they had been looking for.

Cautiously, Crews disentangled himself from her and took her hand to help her up. Together they tidied up the mess as best they could, though she was none too careful with putting the right file into the right box, since there was no system to speak of. When he wasn't paying attention, she shuffled another box away and they were finished.

All she wanted to do was go home and have a shower to wash off the accumulated grime. In the humid heat, her hair had turned into a frizzy afro. It was not a flattering look and she tried to inconspicuously smooth it down a little, but her efforts were fruitless. Then again, Crews liked her just the way she was. That thought made her smile and grimace; in that order.

'So, you wanna talk about the case? It's got something for everybody,' Crews exclaimed in the car. He hadn't bought a new car yet, after wrecking the last one. At least that car had died a noble death while saving Bodner. Though, even after Crews had explained everything, it was still a mystery to her how they had gone from shooting each other to being buddies.

'Not really,' she said. Driving him home after work every day was getting on her nerves. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to buy a new car. The atmosphere between them on the ride home was invariably strained. She experienced a strange feeling of trespassing. Talking to him at work was already wearing her down, but to see him outside of work was even more frustrating.

'Something personal you'd like to discuss? Trouble with Tidwell? Hey, that would be a good name for an episode. If we were in a TV series. Kind of like The Trouble with Tribbles.'

Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, she glared at him.

'I cannot discuss my relationship with you,' she stated and hoped that would be the end of it. Unfortunately, when she thought about what she had said, she realised she had subtly implied that she did indeed have relationship troubles.

'I like Tidwell. He's a nice guy,' he remarked. He regarded her curiously and she had to concentrate on driving again. She could feel his eyes on her. Not as if he was checking her out, but as if he was seeing her. Really seeing her. Ah, to hell with it!

'Yes, he is. He can be annoying at times,' she admitted. Sagely, Crews nodded.

'I annoy you too. You're very easily annoyed,' he pointed out. That was true, but it was entirely beside the point. She wasn't in a relationship with him; she was in a relationship with Kevin. So, it didn't matter that Crews' idiosyncrasies annoyed her, since she wouldn't have to deal with them for the rest of her life. Nor did she want to. Nope, she definitely didn't want that.

'I wouldn't use you as an example of how easily irritable I am,' she replied and a flicker of amusement lit up his eyes. He murmured something inaudible, but apparently acquiescing.

'Are you done interrupting? Can I go back to pouring out my soul?' she asked. She was starting to feel more comfortable in his presence. Who knew this gently coaxing approach of his would work on her? She sure as hell hadn't expected it would.

'Go right ahead,' he said, with an accompanying wave of his hand. Unsure of how to proceed, she drummed lightly on the steering wheel and glanced at him. Unperturbed, he was looking out of the window. While she thought about what she was going to say, his hand almost imperceptibly inched towards the pocket of his jacket.

'I like him and I care about him, but... Is there a moment where you know you love someone?' she asked. Wonderful; if she hadn't been trespassing before, she was undoubtedly trespassing now. Partners had boundaries and she tried not to cross them, because she wanted her boundaries to be respected too. Before Crews, this had been a piece of cake, but with him it somehow wasn't. What a colossally stupid question. She really needed to stop talking right now. As if sensing her discomfort, Crews remained staring out of the window as he answered.

'I don't think there's a specific moment. You'll just _know_.'

Relieved, Dani sighed. She didn't understand her relief, because the trouble with Tidwell stemmed from her not knowing. Looking for confirmation, she turned to Crews again.

'So, when I love someone I'll know?'

His house – though mansion was more appropriate – appeared before them and she brought the car to a halt. Crews stayed seated, only unclasping his seatbelt. She glanced at him and for a moment their eyes met. Awkwardly, she averted her gaze and pretended to check the rear view mirror.

'You'll know,' he repeated. He unfolded himself, he was so tall, and stretched his long legs. Yet, he didn't close the door. His hand was still fingering something in his pocket, Dani noticed. Not another orange, she hoped. Finally, he leaned down and ducked his head into the car.

'Tidwell has a meeting tonight, doesn't he? You want to have dinner with me? I'm a pretty good chef,' Crews asked. Hesitantly, she blinked. She honestly didn't know how to react to his unexpected offer. The way he smiled at her almost made her want to say yes, but she couldn't. She was clinging to the notion of boundaries and she had already crossed too many today.

'Ted's still in Spain,' he added, though God knows what that had to do with anything.

'No, I don't think it's a good idea,' Dani eventually said, ignoring his comment about Ted. Crews shrugged, wished her a good evening and closed the door. Dani resisted the urge to bang her head on the steering wheel and instead started the car. His walk towards the house was dejected and she was simply feeling ridiculous. They were both clearly disappointed that she'd declined his invitation. The problem was that she didn't know which one of them was more disappointed: he or she.


	3. Never going back again

**Chapter 3: Never going back again **

They were in a bar, pretending to be a couple, which was all kinds of wrong, but Dani was trying to roll with the punches. The trouble was that the hits just kept on coming. The bar was filled with stale cigarette smoke and fat drunkards. It wasn't some college bar where barely legal kids ordered fruity drinks with little umbrellas. Not drinking alcohol would draw undue attention to them in this place.

'You ordered two cokes? We're trying to be inconspicuous,' she chided Crews, but all he did was slide the glass her way and sip his own. Reluctantly, she took a sip too. She liked the bite and the almost sharp coldness, but she couldn't help thinking that it would taste better with rum. These thoughts; they were not going to go away, were they? They would be there for the rest of her life. Trying to tempt her into having one harmless drink, which was never harmless and once she had one there would always be another.

Speaking of things that sometimes seemed harmless, but almost certainly weren't: their suspect was sitting two tables over, nursing his beer. According to Crews' intuition, honed and fine tuned in prison, there was something off about the guy. To her, he looked like Ted. Sure, Ted had been a criminal too, but not a dangerous criminal and most definitely not a serial killer.

This guy had the exact same bumbling, shy professor look about him. She knew that psychopaths looked normal. Their extracurricular activities depended upon being able to blend into the crowd. The ideal murderer is erased from people's minds three seconds after they have seen him. This man perfectly fit those requirements. Still, she had trouble picturing him brutally murdering someone.

He looked to be around fifty. His hair was still thick, but slightly greying at the temples. He was a bit overweight and had a fleshy nose. His face was flushed. Dani didn't know whether this was due to the temperature in the bar or because he was drinking heavily. In the hour Crews and she had been there, he had only had two beers, so it was probably the former.

She thought he would fit in nicely at the R&I category of washed up losers. The desk guy, whose name she had already forgotten again, would like him.

Beads of condensation were trickling down her glass and she watched them. Crews was examining the man in the mirror hanging behind the bar. She admired how he casually leaned back and seemed to study his own reflection, while he was actually scrutinizing their suspect.

The word 'suspect' should be used lightly in this context, because there was virtually nothing to link their man to the crime. Crews had a hunch about him, though. His hunches hardly ever brought her anything good, but still she had agreed to accompany Crews on his mission to trail him. In her free time. Part of her almost wanted it to be a ruse; something Crews had made up to get her to spend time with him outside of work, but she knew it wasn't.

Her hand came away wet when she put down her glass after taking another sip. This was so familiar. Going to a bar after work, getting drunk and taking home some random guy. Dani eyed Crews. It could have been him. Crews was forever bringing home cheap floozies and when she had been drinking she had been easy. No. It couldn't have been him, because he wouldn't take advantage of someone's weaknesses.

'Another coke? Or something else?' he asked. It was a test and it wasn't. She shook her head and he got up. This was exactly why being around him was so exhausting and confusing. Everything was a test and at the same time he was simply being himself. It was astounding how he could project a calmness to the outer world, while inside he was so dangerous. Able to kill a man with a single blow, without hesitation.

Why had he killed Roman, she wondered. Because Roman was Roman? Or because Roman was tangentially involved in the murder of Crews' friend and his friend's family? Or because Roman was going to kill him? Or because Roman had kidnapped her and threatened to hurt her?

For her, Roman had merely been the latest event in a long line of self-induced fuck ups. He had slapped her around, which should have bothered her more, but it hadn't. Not really. However, what he'd told her about her father... _Such_ a good idea; thinking about depressing shit like that in close proximity to alcohol.

'Something wrong, Reese?'

'No,' she answered. He sat down and placed his newly filled glass and several paper napkins on the table. Gratefully, Dani wiped her hand dry with one of them. She then proceeded to crumple the napkin to a ball.

'Is it difficult? This was part of the habit, I gather,' he said and she looked at him. His blue eyes rested on her and he smiled easily. The laughter lines around his mouth creased and there was something so reassuring about his wrinkly smile that she instantly felt better

'Sometimes,' she admitted. It was a whole lot better than what she had wanted to say, which was 'no, not with you.' Where were all these things coming from? It was one thing to dream about him. Dreams were nonsensical and meant nothing. Thoughts meant something.

'Does it have something to do with Roman?' he guessed. He must have guessed, because he couldn't know. Nobody knew. And she was fine, really. There was something rehearsed about the nonchalant question, as if he had been wanting to ask her since the kidnapping. As if he'd bided his time waiting for the right moment to ask her. Studiously keeping the shock from showing on her face, she looked at him.

'Did he do something to you?'

She shook her head, but his gaze didn't waver.

'Did he _say_ something?'

Again she quickly shook her head, perhaps too quickly. His eyes widened, but he dropped the subject. She focused on their suspect. There was something there that she didn't see, but Crews did. If Crews' theory was correct, this man was responsible for the death of more than thirty people. He had also committed a string of offenses at the age of thirteen in 1973.

The previous week they had found body parts, a lot of body parts, behind a leather factory. Forensics had determined that the oldest corpse had been lying there for at least thirty years and the newest for a couple of months. They had interviewed current employees, disgruntled employees, sacked employees and squirrelly employers, but their search had turned up no one of interest, until after another visit at the factory Crews had helped an old lady cross the street to her house.

Innocently, the woman had remarked that she was glad her son didn't work there anymore, so he couldn't be associated with the horrible crime. The woman had pointed out her son behind the window. He had hesitantly waved at them. Dani had seen a sad middle-aged man still living with his mother; Crews had seen a serial killer.

The only thing Dani had been able to turn up about him in the police files was a case number. After their visit to the R&I, they now knew what the guy had maybe been doing in 1973. Technically, the file should have been destroyed, because over thirty years later no one was interested in cat murders committed by a minor. Also, there had only been suspicion and no proof to adequately link the boy to the killed cats.

Crews thought the man had graduated from murdering cats to murdering people. Dani thought they'd better turn up some evidence soon or the case would stay open for eternity.

'...to keep from going back,' Crew said and Dani realised that he had been talking and she had not been listening.

'What?' she asked and without a shred of exasperation he started anew.

'I said that it must be hard to keep from reverting back to old habits when life seems confusing. For instance, as it is with the kidnapping or if you're having relationship troubles,' he summed up. Crews' eyes were kind, like Kevin's eyes and they were both trying to help, but she was fine. And even if she wasn't, - but she _was_ - she wouldn't use it as an excuse to drink. In the post-kidnapping world everything was confusing and she'd wanted to have a drink more times than she could count, but she wasn't going to have one.

'Don't worry, I'm not going there,' she assured him.

'I'm not worried,' he said and smiled. To smile was like a natural response for him, while every time Dani smiled she felt as if she was using muscles she had long forgotten. Smiling felt like having to relearn how to ride a bike. Why was that? If she was fine; why did smiling cost so much trouble, except when she was around Crews?

'It's late and I don't think he's going to kill anyone tonight,' Crews whispered as he got to his feet and he held the door open for her. The air was cool on her skin and she took a deep breath of relatively clean air. In her car, he thanked her for coming with him and she shrugged that it wasn't a big deal. They agreed to follow the man again the next evening.

She dropped him off at home. Behind him, his house loomed large. Dark and empty, she thought, especially without Ted. Rachel had also not returned; Crews was vague about her whereabouts. She contemplated the loneliness of that place bereft of people and furniture, but she knew that loneliness didn't depend on a person's surroundings. Loneliness came from inside.

'Good night,' he said.

'Good night,' she whispered and for a second she allowed herself to imagine living there. Him wishing her good night and turning off the lights. Sleeping next to him. Feeling... what exactly? Feeling right, perhaps, instead of how sleeping next to Kevin had started to feel wrong.

(***)

One week later.

'She didn't want to go out with me, which makes sense. I mean, look at me and then look at her.'

The door to Tidwell's office was opened slightly and the blinds were drawn. Dani paused outside with her hand hovering above the doorknob. She recognised Tidwell's voice, but who else was in there with him? Covertly glancing around, she stayed rooted to the spot.

'Eventually, I wore her down. She broke down and let me in. But she also didn't let me in. You know what I'm saying?' Tidwell said.

'I'm probably the only one who does,' Crews answered. She shouldn't be doing this. Listening to Kevin's insecurities about their relationship and about how he thought he wasn't good enough was painful; but Crews' response was too much. It could mean a number of things and yet she felt she knew precisely what he meant. She was so tired of everything suddenly meaning something. So tired.

'Because you're Zen?' Tidwell asked and without thinking, she opened the door. Neither of the men looked caught, which made sense. It wasn't as if they had been discussing something behind her back. They were nearly friends; they were allowed to talk to each other about her. God knows, she sometimes discussed Crews with Kevin and Kevin with Crews. Dani regarded Kevin and he looked about as tired as she felt. Crews pushed himself away from the desk and approached her. His intense stare rattled her already crumbling walls.

'We have to go,' she ordered, mouthing a lacklustre 'I'll see you later' to Kevin. Crews and she had another evening shadowing their possible serial killer planned and often this amounted to little more than parking in front of his mother's house and sitting there. Usually, Kevin was already asleep when she came home.

Crews' hand brushed hers as he passed her and it send an unwelcome jolt through her. Immediately, she jerked her hand away and Crews took note of her exaggerated reaction. He didn't say anything. Suddenly, he had learned when to shut up. His silence made her feel stupid. She had to do something. This couldn't continue. This wasn't fair to anyone. Things were different; she was different and she had to make a choice.

Everyone assumed that the kidnapping or the exchange was what had a profound effect on her, but it wasn't. Things were different because of what it could _mean_. No matter how much she tried to pretend that everything was the same; it wasn't. She couldn't go back to who she was before. How could it be that she was only one drink or one hit removed from being an addict again, but she could not become the person she had been before the exchange? It would be so easy to slip back into addiction. Why couldn't she just as easily be without these feelings for and thoughts about Crews?


	4. Don't stop

**Chapter 4: Don't stop **

'He may look like an idiot, but no one's that much of an idiot. He knows we're onto him,' Dani said. They were on the umpteenth stake out and their suspect had just waved at them as he walked his dog. There was no need to get out of the car as he only ever walked to the end of the street and doubled back. The dog made her think of the cats. Strangled, stabbed, poisoned cats.

'Perhaps that is a good thing. He won't try to kill someone when he knows the police are watching him,' Crews reasoned and he waved back. Dani monitored the suspect's movement as he passed their car and didn't openly acknowledge his presence.

'_If_ he's the killer,' she interjected. At this point, the objection was perfunctory because she believed that he was. She trusted Crews' intuition. Much more than she trusted her own intuition nowadays. She still hadn't talked to Kevin, even though she knew a talk was long overdue. The trouble was that she knew where that particular conversation would lead and then she'd be a free woman. And that could lead to other things, which she didn't really want to think about.

'Bit of mango?'

'What? No,' she answered. Mango wasn't even proper stake out food. Donuts and strong coffee were mandatory, but Crews always brought plastic cups with pieces of fruit and water.

This was going to be another late night, which meant that when she came home she would have to wake Kevin if she wanted to talk to him. She didn't want to talk to him and it would be cruel to wake him up to break up with him. Thus, their much needed talk was delayed another day.

'You know, Reese, I've been thinking about the kidnapping and I think I know what's wrong.'

'Hmm,' she noncommittally murmured, while following the suspect's movements in the rear view mirror.

'Something happened to you. Something which had everything and nothing to do with you. Something you didn't deserve,' Crews reiterated and she refrained from heaving a sigh of relief. He hadn't discovered what Roman had said. This was merely plain old post-kidnapping conversation. His words could be applied to anyone and everything. It was a bumper sticker. _Shit happens._

'Yes?' she sighed. The dog was uprooting a bush, while his owner waited patiently.

'And afterwards you see things a different way. I know I did. After being released from prison...' Crews continued, but his parallel didn't wash with her. Her head snapped in his direction and her eyes focused on his.

'Are you really comparing my barely qualifying as kidnapping adventure to your twelve years in prison? They are nothing alike,' Dani protested. He seemed to consider this. Carefully closing his fruit container, as if that mattered, since the backseat of the car was riddled with empty boxes of donuts, candy wrappers and paper coffee containers, he put the cup on the dashboard and looked at her.

'Aren't they?'

'No, they aren't. For one, the duration and the experience are incomparable. Secondly, you had nobody out there looking out for you. I knew the entire time that you were coming for me,' she explained. Her answer made her cringe. It was as if he was purposely goading her into saying these things. To emphasise how extraordinary the thing he had done for her was. His ability to make her state things she wanted to keep hidden made her angry.

She had told Roman that she was connected to Crews. How true that was. A thousand threads connected them, guiding him to her. What was doubly remarkable about what she had inadvertently admitted was that she discounted all the other people who were connected to her and who had helped Crews: Kevin, and to a lesser degree, Bobby, Bodner and even Seever. Kevin would have gotten into that car with Roman too. Life would be a lot simpler if it had been Kevin. Her eyes stayed trained on the suspect, while she felt the anger at what she was thinking rise inside her chest.

'I had Constance,' he responded. For some reason, this fuelled her anger. She glared at him.

'Would she have done anything to get you out? No. And you did. You did the most stupid and dangerous thing anyone could have done for someone else,' she whisper-yelled. He took it all in, all her anger, and blinked it away. He literally blinked, sort of taken aback by her rage, and her anger was gone.

'Not for someone else. For you,' he softly said and placed his hand on her bare arm. Her skin tingled under his touch. Her body wanted more, but her mind was so confused by his words. It was probably more of his Zen bullshit, but it sounded as if he meant that he had done it for himself. Saved her, because they were one and the same. So, he had saved himself, because Crews was Reese and Reese was Crews. Yep, definitely Zen bullshit.

'Yes, well, I'm sure you would have done it for Tidwell or Bobby or your beloved Seever too,' Dani replied. She was really hoping he wouldn't say anything to contradict that and he didn't. He merely stared at her in that infuriating way of his and removed his hand. For hours afterward, she could feel his fingers on her arm. Even when she crawled into bed next to Kevin for another night of wrongness, she still remembered the light pressure and the comforting warmth of Crews' touch.

(***)

The next day, they were following up on a lead in another case. A series of burglaries had ended with a fatality when a man came home unexpectedly and was shot by one of the burglars. Crews rang the doorbell and stood aside. She liked that. She liked that he was not ashamed of following her lead. He allowed her to lead the investigation, the interrogations of suspects and only offered assistance or helpful suggestions when he saw she wanted them.

It was only lately, when she had started to consider the possibility of them not being partners anymore, that she realised how unique this was. He didn't feel the constant need to prove himself. In fact, she couldn't remember Crews ever displaying any alpha male behaviour. He treated her as an equal and when necessary deferred to her because she was his superior officer. Would another partner, female or male, be capable of walking that fine line to her satisfaction? She highly doubted it.

While all other things had changed, this had fortunately remained the same. He never treated her as if she was the weaker of the two, as if she needed to be protected. If he did she'd probably shoot him and she'd already threatened to do so more times than she could count.

'We're on for tonight?' she asked and he nodded. Impatiently, she rang the doorbell again. It was beginning to look like she was the one who was using their stake outs as an excuse. It was a handy excuse to avoid the inevitable break up with Kevin. The door swung open to reveal a tall and muscular twenty something.

'Samuel Cook? I'm detective Reese and this is...' she began their introductions, but Samuel didn't seem to like cops. He attempted to shut the door, but she quickly jammed her foot in the opening. The sharp pain when the door hit her foot caused her to slam the door against the wall. Plaster came off in big chunks. They could just see Samuel crashing through the screen door into the yard. Crews immediately gave chase. No 'are you alright, Reese?' dawdling and she loved him for it.

While Samuel tore through the yard and Crews pursued him, Dani headed for the alley behind the back yards where she'd parked the car. Her right foot hurt a little and she rotated it cautiously as she got behind the wheel. There was just enough room in the alley to open the doors on either side of the car. She closed the door and waited. Patience wasn't one of her few virtues, but luckily she didn't have to wait for long.

Nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from Crews, Samuel rolled out of one of his neighbour's yards and into the narrow alley. His face and hands were covered in scratches from diving through hedges and scaling fences. He barely took notice of the car, except as an obstacle he needed to pass.

This was the part she loved. As Crews, with his freakishly long legs, also came into the alley, Samuel tried to rush by the car. All she had to do was throw open the door at the right time and Samuel bounced back onto the sidewalk. Valiantly, Samuel tried to get up, but with a moan he fell back, clutching his knees. Dani cuffed him, while Crews stood by, his breathing slightly heavier.

'Excellent timing,' he panted.

'Nice legwork,' she complimented him. There was nothing unusual about any of it. They had perfected their routine over time and knew exactly how the other would react in practically any situation. As she put Samuel in the backseat, the sound of a motorcycle being started could be heard at the other end of the alley. She slammed the door shut and got in the driver's seat. She leaned over and unlocked the door on the passenger's side. Crews opened the door. The tip of his tie dangled against the upper doorframe.

In the rear view mirror, she saw the motor approach their car and it didn't show any signs of slowing down. It zigzagged before its driver decided to pass the car on the right side. Where Crews was standing. He was in the process of getting in, but Dani could see the driver had no intention of braking and the vehicle was actually gathering speed. Lightning quick, she leaned over, grabbed Crews' tie and pulled viciously. Crews stumbled into the car.

A split second later, sparks flew as the motor chafed the side of their car and collided with the still open door. The door came off and the driver lost control of the motor, skidding an impressive distance across the asphalt. The car door was dragged along, which produced even more sparks, before everything grinded to a halt just before the busy street parallel to the alley. The driver moved weakly, but didn't seem to be getting up any time soon.

'You okay?' she asked Crews, but she could see for herself that he was. He nodded and she reached for the two-way radio. Samuel's voice startled her; she had nearly forgotten he was in the car too.

'Aren't you going to help Donald? He's hurt,' Samuel insisted. His eyes shifted from her to Crews to the sad figure sprawled on the ground. The panic in his voice was barely concealed and she could see the fear in his eyes for the welfare of his buddy.

'That was attempted assault with a deadly weapon. Of a police officer!' she bit at Samuel and heatedly speaking into the radio she summarised the situation.

'This is unit 1H4K. Code 99 over on Sherman Way. Possible 245. We picked up a burglary suspect and one of his buddies tried to run over my partner with his motor. The driver of the motorcycle is currently in need of medical attention.'

Her pulse was racing and she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and Crews had to pry the radio from her stiffened fingers and replace it in its holder.

'_You_ okay?' he asked softly, his left hand squeezing her shoulder. His other hand reached for the car door. Out of instinct, she guessed, because there was just an opening where the car door used to be. Empty space was all his fingers encountered and he seemed puzzled by this, which almost made her laugh. A snort escaped her and he grinned at her.

'Just be careful. I have no intention of ever being Reese without Crews,' she reminded him.

'You remembered,' he said and his grin widened.

'Yeah, I did. Now, let's go and help the poor bastard.'

After Crews had gotten shot by Bodner, he had asked her whether she had thought about him. Of course she had. That was mandatory. When someone close to you almost died you thought about them and imagined what your life would look like without them. That had been the first shock; that apparently she considered him close to her. So much for keeping it professional. Her brave attempt to keep him out had obviously failed.

The second shock had been when she had imagined her life without him, because it had seemed empty. Dani had caught herself thinking fondly of his strange non sequiturs. She had suddenly discovered she liked Crews annoying her incessantly and their constant bickering. They weren't just partners, she had realised. Knowing that nothing good could come of that epiphany, she had filed her newfound knowledge under don't-want-to-know and hadn't looked at it since. Until a certain Russian gangster came along.

So, long before Roman kidnapping her and the subsequent fateful exchange, she had realised somewhere along the way that Crews was much more than her partner. That moment when she had seen Crews after the exchange was simply the first time she had allowed that knowledge to surface and it had shown on her face as she had stared at Crews in wonder. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

(***)

Back at the station, Crews reported the damage to the car, while she put Samuel in an interrogation room. Waiting for Crews, Dani sat down and flexed her sore foot under the desk. Kevin nodded at her from his office and she curtly returned the nod. At the water cooler, Bodner was chatting with a beat cop. Dani eyed him suspiciously. The fact that this guy was still allowed to carry a badge was a disgrace. He had worked for a criminal. He had shot a police officer. Worse, he had shot Crews.

He finished his conversation with the cop and came over with two plastic cups of water. She ignored his greeting and glared at him when he attempted to put one of the cups on her desk. Awkwardly, he aborted the movement and stood holding his rejected, pathetic peace offering.

'Detective Reese.'

'Bodner.'

Feigning boredom, her glance slid off him. She clacked her teeth, she raised her eyebrows, she thumbed through a report, she tapped her desk, she sighed pointedly; he was still there.

'What?' she eventually snapped. He regarded her with barely concealed amusement. This proved not conducive to her already crappy mood.

'How are Charlie and you doing?' he asked.

'_We_ are not doing anything. Crews is fine and, entirely separate, I am also fine. We're fine, but we're not fine together, understood?' she explained, perhaps too loudly. Two beat cops by the water cooler were staring at her, but they quickly went about their business when she aimed her murderous gaze their way.

'Do the rumours bother you?' Bodner asked. Dani rolled her eyes. Well, clearly, because she couldn't even answer a damn question without turning into a complete freak. Frustrated, she groaned and rubbed her neck. Bodner gingerly placed the cups on Crews' desk, after a glance in her direction to see whether that was alright. It was Crews' desk, not hers, so she didn't protest. Better to keep such things apart. Desks, lives, just everything. He lowered himself into Crews' chair.

'That's how it started with my wife,' Bodner said. She realised she was going to be subjected to an anecdote. An anecdote of the guy who had tried to kill her partner, because Roman had ordered him to. A guy who, despite that, was still a member of the FBI, because Crews was very Zen about getting shot. As if a bullet in Bodner's leg was any sort of revenge for Bodner trying to kill him, as if they were even now. God, she hated him.

'We worked together at the bureau, were partners like you and Crews. Someone started a rumour that we were dating and suddenly we were looking at each other differently. That was twenty years ago,' he proudly told her, showing her his wedding ring and throwing her a meaningful look.

'That's nice,' she muttered sarcastically. Wasn't it super duper wonderful that everyone was hinting that she was in love with Crews? Wasn't it? And wasn't it great that people kept telling her that she was seeing things differently now or, if she wasn't, that she really should? Wasn't that just plain awesome?

'Special Agent Bodner,' Crews exclaimed in surprise, coming up behind her. He shook hands with Bodner in a friendly manner. Apparently, shooting each other really created a bond. Dani got to her feet and, without sparing Bodner another look, she beckoned Crews to the interrogation room.

'You know, Reese, that Roman threatened his family?' Crews pointed out.

'So?' she hissed back.

'Look at what I did when he threatened you,' Crews replied. He closed the door behind them. Samuel was looking particularly miserable. Relieved to not have to continue that particular minefield of a conversation, she blocked out all inappropriate thoughts of Crews. They expertly played Samuel, until he gave up the name of all his fellow burglars and fingered his motorcycle buddy as the one who had pulled the trigger.

Crews seemed to feel sympathy for Samuel and for Bodner and quite possibly he had some sympathy reserved for Roman fucking Nevikov too, but Dani was fresh out of sympathy. Her supply was rather meagre to begin with. Her damn foot was hurting and her mood went further downhill when she realised that she'd agreed to shadow their serial killer suspect again that evening. In fact, she had been the one to suggest it. Solving a case couldn't even lift her spirits as the prospect of another night in the car in close proximity to Crews loomed before her.

(***)

That evening.

Crews had noticed her less than sunny disposition, but insisted he had to show her something before they went to the suspect's house. After driving for a while, she started to think she recognised landmarks. A gnarled tree, a dusty dirt road. Suddenly it dawned on her: he was taking her to his orange grove. Her hands clamped down on the wheel and she resisted the violent urge to perform a handbrake turn and get the hell out of there. She prayed for Crews to have one of his semi-normal reasons for bringing her there. Like he wanted to show her a cross between an orange and a mango or something like that. A mangorange. Lame.

Orange trees lined the sides of the road and he asked her to stop. The sky was a vivid blue, like his eyes. Reluctantly, she exited the car. To her, every orange tree looked the same as the next and the wind had erased telltale tire marks from the sand, but still she could have sworn this was the exact same spot...

'Do you want to drive the tractor?' he asked. He appeared to be a bit anxious, which was unlike him. Vaguely, he gestured down the road, where the tractor presumably stood. Dani crossed her arms and stared at him over her sunglasses.

'No, I do not want to drive the tractor.'

'Ok,' Crews said, nervously. He cleared his throat, but still didn't say anything to clarify his purpose for taking her to this place and there was nothing resembling a mangorange in sight. His behaviour was starting to unnerve her too.

'What are we doing here?' Dani asked. They could be keeping a detail on their suspected serial killer right now, but instead they were wasting time here, doing God knows what. Crews searched for something in her face and appeared to detect it, because he levelled one of his trademark stares her way.

'This is where I realised something. It was simple math. One plus one equals one,' he explained. He beamed at her as if she was supposed to know what he was talking about. On the one hand, she feared she might and on the other hand, she thought that was bad math and barely English.

'Crews, what the hell are you talking about?'

'You were in the car over there and I was standing right here. You looked at me and I looked at you and I knew that I...'

'Stop,' she begged. Crews regarded her, not unkindly, and did as she asked. As she _pleaded_, because that one word had truly erupted from her mouth as a plea. She could lie to herself all she wanted and make believe that she didn't know what he had been going to say, but let's face facts: she knew. There was a lot of knowing going around and, strangely, she wanted to hear what she'd prevented him from saying.

Before that, however, there were things she needed to take care of and other things that she didn't yet know, but needed to know. Exhibit A: Kevin. Exhibit B: Was she willing to give Crews up as a partner to gain him as something else? Exhibit C: Did she feel the same as he did? Exhibit D: Was she ready for this?

'I don't think I want to go on stake out tonight,' Dani confided in him. The colour had drained from her face and she could feel the strain of her confused emotions. Her eyes met his and she ignored the strong desire to look away. They got into the car. She drove him home. Even after she had rudely cut him off, he smiled at her before he got out of the car. For the first time, he didn't wish her good night or good evening, as if he knew of the unpleasant task that awaited her at home.


	5. Go your own way

**Chapter 5: Go your own way **

On her way home, Dani noticed that almost everyone she encountered was in high spirits. It wasn't until she entered her apartment building that she realised it was Saturday evening. Personally, she found it hard to care about the weekend. She worked with Crews or she didn't work with him, but thought about him; the variation was minimal. At least when she worked, she could sometimes pry her mind away from him.

'_You looked at me and I looked at you and I knew that I...'_

What a fucking mess she had gotten herself into. Her captain and her partner. Crews was right: everything was connected. The twist? It was connected in the most obnoxious way possible. As she approached the door of their apartment, which would soon be just her apartment again, her right foot was starting to hurt more by the minute.

In the kitchen area, Kevin was strategically placing some thin tomato slices on a homemade pizza. He looked surprised, but happy when he saw her.

'I thought you'd...'

'No, we decided to take a break,' she mumbled. She couldn't forget the way Crews had looked when she'd told him to stop. Understanding, but also disappointed. Sprinkling some more mozzarella on top of the pizza, Kevin surveyed the remaining ingredients.

'You want a pizza too?' he asked her, but she shook her head. Kevin was actually a pretty good cook, like Crews had said of himself. She suppressed a groan, partly because she'd accidentally put too much weight on the wrong foot and partly because she'd been thinking about Crews again. Nowadays, her thought were forever wandering off and ending up at something Crews had said or something Crews had done.

Kevin looked at her, a pained expression on his face. Sighing, Dani sat down at the counter. She took off her shoes and wriggled her toes. That sent tiny stabs of pain through her right foot. Do it now, she told herself, or you're just going to chicken out and postpone. Before she could open her mouth, however, Kevin was up and running.

'Lately, I feel you've been slipping away from me. You can hardly look at me sometimes. And obviously you don't want to talk to me about the kidnapping, but you have to talk to someone,' he assessed. It was clear that it hurt him to say these things, but it felt like he was going to do it for her and she couldn't let him.

'Don't start about therapy again; I'm not in the mood. My foot hurts like hell, I'm hungry and we need to talk about us.'

He mouthed her words – we need to talk about us – as if she wasn't there. The oven started to beep and he turned away from her to slide in the pizza. After setting the timer, he faced her.

'It's over, isn't it?' he asked and winced.

'Yes, it is,' Dani admitted. Despite not having openly acknowledged that she loved him, she had thought she loved him. Just... not enough. Regardless, it wasn't pleasant to sit there and watch his face as he took in the news. She still liked him and cared about him.

'Why?'

I don't know isn't an acceptable answer, she thought, and it is also a lie. He deserved honesty. Struggling to come up with some sort of explanation for what she didn't understand herself, she brushed her foot hard against the floor. A bolt of pain shot up her leg and she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue.

'It doesn't feelright anymore. I'm sorry,' she managed to get out.

'Don't apologise. How can you change things that you feel?' he said, matter-of-factly and she nodded in agreement. They stared at each other across the kitchen counter. She was the first to break eye contact as she gently slipped off her chair and faked a normal walk to the bathroom without putting too much pressure on her foot. Holy hell, that was painful. The fact that the ache in her foot made her feel like she was dying seemed only fair. Like the karmic justice Crews was so fond of.

After taking a quick shower and putting on an old pair of jeans and comfy big shirt, she limped back into the living room. A cardboard box full of hastily assembled clothes was standing by the door of the apartment and Kevin was busy filling another box with other personal items. Dani carefully lowered herself onto the couch and raked her fingers through her wet hair.

'You really don't have to...' she protested, but Kevin interrupted her.

'I do. This is your apartment. I'll just go back to my old apartment. To be honest, I've expected this to happen for quite some time.'

Hearing that he still had an old apartment to go to made her feel less guilty. It meant that he had known that their relationship wasn't going anywhere. In addition, there was far less of his stuff in her apartment than she would have thought, which confirmed once again that they weren't really as serious as she had made them out to be in her mind. Suddenly, 'living together' didn't seem an adequate description of their former living arrangement anymore, because if they had been living together he wouldn't have an old apartment to go to now and he would have more to pack.

'Just answer me this. Is it because of him? Is it because he gets it?'

They both knew who he was referring to and what he was referring to: Crews and the kidnapping.

'I don't even get it, so how is he supposed to?' she responded, wearily. In a way, however, despite her not telling anyone about Roman possibly having killed her father, Crews _did_ get it. Crews suspected something had happened during the kidnapping that she wanted to keep hidden; whereas everyone else merely assumed that she was traumatised by the kidnapping in general. Her partner was the only one aware of the fact that it took more than being the captive of a sociopath to rattle her.

'But it is because of him?' Kevin insisted.

'Yes,' she simply said. Satisfied, he continued to pack. It was a mystery to her why it almost made him smile to hear that she was breaking up with him because of another man, but he seemed relieved to receive confirmation. Looking around the living room, he nodded before going into the bathroom. He came back out with his toothbrush, shaving kit and bathrobe and quickly put them in the second box too.

He was taking the break up better than she had expected. Not that she had imagined tears or a fight, but he seemed strangely resigned. Surveying the kitchen and living room again, to see if he had missed anything, he eventually opened the door and shoved one box into the hallway. Tucking the other box under his arm, he grinned sheepishly at her.

'That's it. I thought I had more stashed here, but I guess not,' he admitted, adding after a brief pause, 'You know, I wasn't going to suggest therapy. I was going to say that I think you should talk to Charlie about the kidnapping. He might surprise you and understand.'

There seemed nothing more to say at that point, so they awkwardly hugged and she held the door open for him, while he picked the other box off the floor. As she closed the door, Dani reflected on how quick that had been. Half an hour tops. Gone. Her apartment looked as if he had never been there. The oven beeped and she remembered his pizza. Unsure of what to do with it, she took it out. It looked delicious, but when she nibbled at its crust listlessly, she realised she wasn't hungry after all and dropped it into the trash can.

She wanted to tell someone about the end of her relationship, but the only person who had known that there was a relationship in the first place was Crews. When she had been at the FBI, she'd routinely called Crews to check up on him, because he couldn't function if he didn't run through the details of a case with her. It had always been nice to hear his voice. She stared at the phone for a while, before deciding that, yes, she wanted to call him and she was going to.

'Reese?'

'Yes, it's me. Can I come over?' Dani said. The question just hung there and it was too naked, too vulnerable, so she hastily added, 'To discuss the case?'

Honestly, she had no idea what she was doing and she fully expected him to ask her whether they couldn't simply discuss the case over the phone or, better yet, on Monday. He didn't. While he formulated an answer, she could hear a woman asking him to hurry up, because they were going to be late.

'I can't tonight. How about tomorrow morning? Around nine?' he suggested.

'That's fine. Goodnight,' she answered. It wasn't fine at all. Who was that woman? What were they going to be late for? It was barely seven o'clock and her foot throbbed and she was tired and miserable.

'Goodnight,' he said. His voice was warm and the sentiment sounded heartfelt. It eased her worries a little and she ended the call feeling slightly better. Is that why she had really called: to hear him say goodnight? It was too pathetic to contemplate.

(***)

The next morning, she woke up feeling uncharacteristically jittery. She liked to sleep in on the weekends, but it was half past six and no matter how hard she tried, she didn't succeed at falling asleep again. Around seven, she gave up. Her foot was continuing to give her trouble, so she took a couple of aspirins. She attempted to stretch out her bathroom routine by taking a bath instead of a shower and shaving her legs, but it was still only half past seven and she was ready to go. Eating wasn't in the cards, because she was too nervous.

Sometimes she truly didn't get herself. The anxiety was completely uncalled for. She was just going over to her partner's house on a Sunday morning for work related business. It wasn't something to be nervous about. She changed her outfit three times; thinking she was going insane the whole time. Finally, she couldn't wait any longer and left for Crews' house.

As she parked on his driveway, she noticed two cars on his driveway. Neither was exactly Crews' taste. One was a practical, yellow car. The other car was a silver hybrid. And neither sported bullet holes. What did it say about a guy if he drove around in a car filled with bullet holes? It wasn't even eight yet, so she sat in the car, debating what showing up an hour early would say about her.

The sun hung low in the sky and it was warm. Five minutes passed and the front door opened. She leaned forward and saw Jane Seever closing the door behind her. Dani's mind presented her with every possible explanation for Seever's presence in Crews' house on a Sunday morning. She liked none of them. Well, there was one way to find out, she thought; she could _ask_.

Quickly, Dani got out of the car and approached her. Seever was in the process of unlocking the hybrid when she spotted Dani. Recognition flashed across Seever's face and she waited by her car.

'He just wanted to ask me a question,' Seever said, before Dani had any chance of asking her. She was beautiful, Dani thought. Very beautiful. Seever smiled pleasantly at her, but Dani wasn't mollified.

'And what might that be?' she demanded. Dani felt she was on shaky ground. Seever's clothes weren't wrinkled and she didn't display a lack of sleep. It wasn't a walk of shame she was performing; that much was clear.

'Whether I'd heard the rumours and, if I had, who'd told me. He said they bothered him,' Seever answered. In response, Dani could only feel stupid. She'd nearly forgotten that Crews had promised to search for the source of the rumours about them. Clearly, he had lied about his motives for doing so to Seever, because they didn't bother him one bit. The only thing that bothered him about them was that they bothered her.

'Of course they bother him. Considering that they're based solely on the fact that he traded himself for me; something that, crazy as he is, he would have done for nearly everyone. Right?' Dani asked, quickly recovering.

'Sure,' Seever confirmed, but Dani thought she sounded slightly amused.

'Jane,' she started and both were startled by her use of Seever's first name, but Dani continued nonetheless, 'Crews told me what you did to help him and I just wanted to thank you.'

Seever said it had been her pleasure. It most likely had been too, since she had emerged as the righteous hero of the tale, Dani thought. They said goodbye and Dani made her way to the front door. A glance at her watch indicated that it was a few minutes past eight, but without hesitation she knocked on the door. After about thirty seconds or so, Crews opened the door.

'You're early,' he remarked, while smiling at her. He nonchalantly leaned against the doorway. He looked tired and, to be honest, maybe a bit hung over. Consequence of a party he had attended last night or product of little sleep?

'Am I? I thought you said eight,' she lied and crossed her arms. They stared at each other. His stare tinged with amusement; hers pure defiance.

'No, I think I said nine,' he insisted. There was a playful component to his comment, but she refused to enjoy his light hearted tone. He opened the door to let her through and a dog raced towards her. In his attempt to slow down, the dog skidded on the smooth tiles and whizzed by her, only to return, tail wagging.

'You've got a dog now?' Dani asked as she kneeled down to pet the friendly mutt. It was somewhat disconcerting to see Crews without his suit, despite having seen him in his casual attire before. A suit meant work; something Dani liked to have present in their interaction and now it was conspicuously absent. His thin, grey sweater and dark blue jeans looked nice on him though. Not that this was in any way a relevant observation.

'He was wandering around on the street.'

The dog wasn't of a breed she could identify. His legs were stumpy, his ears floppy and his coat shaggy and light brown of colour. He pushed his wet nose into her hand and rolled over onto his back to display his round belly. She tickled it and straightened up. Realising the petting was done; the dog jumped to his feet and ran out of sight.

'Well, at least there is no furniture for him to ruin,' she offered and as Crews led the way to the kitchen he pointed out the new couch and coffee table.

'Rachel made me get them. You've met before,' he said. In the dining area, the decoration was not so sparse. Rachel was sitting at the table. Two plates were placed on either side of the table, plus a bottle of maple syrup and a powdered sugar shaker in the middle. An opened textbook lay next to Rachel's plate but didn't receive a lot of attention. Instead, she was scratching the ears of the dog and barely looked up when they entered, except to nod to indicate she had seen them.

'You look hung over,' Dani whispered at Crews, but apparently Rachel heard, because she piped up.

'We went to a barbeque at Bobby Stark's house last night and Charlie was so tired that I had to drive him home in my car,' Rachel explained. Dani estimated her age at about eighteen or nineteen, so there was a lot contained in that single sentence. Annoyance at having been dragged to a barbeque, a grudging allowance of having had fun there, a jab at Crews' perceived advanced age and a proud emphasis at the mention of her very own car. All Dani felt was relief at now knowing who the woman had been and where Charlie had gone the previous night.

'_Uncle_ Charlie. Tell her,' Crews urged. Puzzled, Dani glanced from him to the girl. Rachel rolled her eyes, while he opened the fridge. A bowl of fresh blueberries, a carton of milk, butter and various other ingredients were taken out and placed on the kitchen counter.

'He wants me to tell you I got accepted into UCLA,' Rachel said.

'Congratulations,' Dani offered and she was quite sincere too. UCLA was one of the most difficult public universities to get into. Rachel attempted to shrug off Dani's congratulations, but ended up positively glowing. Crews was throwing ingredients into a large bowl and sliding generous clumps of butter into two small pans. The pans sizzled, Crews swirled the melting butter around and then started to whisk the contents of the bowl.

'And I can only give the happy news to virtual strangers, no offense, because I haven't got any normal people who are _actually_ related to me to tell,' Rachel continued, purposely loud so that Crews could hear. She leaned towards Dani to confidently add in a tone that sounded equally horrified and delighted, 'He even made me call Ted.'

Dani didn't know what to say, so she simply nodded. It was weird. Aside from the strange father-daughter dynamic between Crews and Rachel, which made Dani feel a tad ashamed for ever assuming they had any other kind of relationship, there was an additional sense of familiarity about the girl. The first time she had met Rachel she'd experienced something similar. Like she knew Rachel, or was supposed to know her.

'Have you had breakfast, Reese?' Crews asked. She realised she had been staring at Rachel and blinked rapidly. To snap out of it, she focused on how he was pouring the batter filled with big, black berries into the two pans.

'No,' she admitted.

'Would you like some blueberry pancakes? They are excellent,' he said. Calculating that she hadn't eaten anything except a bite of pizza crust since yesterday afternoon, Dani glanced at Rachel. The girl nodded enthusiastically.

Perhaps Rachel liked some company to distract Crews. This morning, his almost intimidating intensity was subdued, but otherwise he was always on. Always studying and noticing and probing and testing. Dani imagined this kind of behaviour - even when Crews never pushed and never went too far - must be especially taxing for a teenage girl. If all you wanted was some independence and privacy, his eerie ability to know nearly every thought you had before you had it was magnified until it was unbearable. Dani should know.

'Yes, I would,' she answered. Rachel smiled gratefully at her, but there was something weary in her smile. Rachel put another plate and knife and fork out and Dani sat down. What were they all doing, Dani wondered. Secrets, secrets, secrets. Every one of them hiding something from the others. She suspected her own secrets might very well be the least disturbing.

Crews flipped the pancakes over and after a minute slid one pancake onto Rachel's plate and one onto Dani's plate. Rachel poured maple syrup over hers, while Dani cut off a slice and put it into her mouth. It _was_excellent. After asking her what she wanted to drink, Crews poured her a drink too, before focusing his attention on the pancakes again. The domestic vibe of the scene she was being a part of was getting to her. Playing house.

There were postcards on the fridge and she focused on them to mask her growing confusion. A postcard of Barcelona with a picture of a church and a stadium. A card of the beach at sunrise. Two cards of different vineyards. Another card with the text side up. 'Found her!' it exclaimed happily. Ted's cards, Dani guessed.

'Good? Want another one?' Crews asked her. She nodded and shook her head. Rachel demanded another pancake and again saturated it with syrup. Dani's teeth hurt just looking at it. Turning off the stove, Crews came and sat down at the kitchen table to eat his own pancake. Rachel was too busy devouring her pancake to notice the mounting tension as Dani stared at Crews and he returned the stare.

The blueberries burst in her mouth like fruit explosions, rich in sugar and taste. What was she doing, indeed? She had no new information or new ideas about their serial killer case. This was personal. Crews probably knew it too, evidenced by the fact that he hadn't asked her anything about the case yet. Though, that might also have something to do with not wanting to discuss gruesome murders in front of a teenager.

Rachel's eyes darted from Dani to Crews and she suddenly seemed to pick up on the strange atmosphere hanging between them. Apologetically, Dani smiled at Rachel and pushed her plate away. That had been one of the best pancakes she had ever eaten, even with the added awkwardness surrounding the breakfast.

'You want to come upstairs? I have to show you something,' Crews said. His mouth was full of pancake, so it took Dani a moment to interpret what he had said. When she took in his meaning, the only thing that popped into her head was; _not__again_, but she still nodded. Crews exchanged a glance with Rachel and something was communicated between them that Dani didn't understand. Immediately afterwards, Rachel started to clear the table, but that hadn't been it.

The situation was slowly spinning out of control. Dani didn't understand any of it. She didn't understand why Rachel seemed familiar and who she was and why she was here. What was waiting for her upstairs? The questions kept stacking up and as long as she couldn't even get her own motives for coming here straight, there was little hope of figuring out the other stuff.

'Is he supposed to come?' Dani asked as the dog tried to follow them up the stairs.

'He shouldn't, but he always does. Come on. Come here,' Rachel called and the dog trotted away. Without wanting to, Dani flashed back to her dream. Wandering through this very same house looking for him. Crews beckoned her and with immense misgivings she climbed the stairs and followed him to one of the upstairs rooms. It was the same door as the one she had chosen in her dream and it turned out to lead to the bedroom.

In the large doorway, Dani looked around uncomfortably. There was the bed. So, he had one. She had half expected him to sleep on the floor or on a bed of nails or something like that. Crews went straight for a door to their left. He paused before it. Warily, she approached him.

He turned to her and took a deep breath. When he stepped forwards, they were suddenly standing so close to each other that his breath lightly stirred her hair as he exhaled. She tilted her head and looked up at him. His aftershave or cologne or deodorant or whatever it was smelled nice. Like apples, like earth. Good and healthy.

Her heart raced and she had to tell herself to calm the fuck down. Nothing was happening. Just another example of Crews invading her personal space and he rarely did that without a good reason. Still, she felt her body hum as she stared into his eyes.

It was an anticipatory tremble of excitement. She was no stranger to this feeling and she knew what came next. This was the part where she needed to take a step back and warn him to back off, but she didn't want to move. If she moved she could only increase the distance between them and she liked where they were right now. She liked the limbo between touching and not touching they were navigating. He leaned in and his voice was hoarse when he whispered.

'Reese...'

He moved away from her and unaware she reached out for him, but curbed the movement just in time. Her throat felt tight as she swallowed and waited for him to unlock the door.

This room looked to be some sort of a walk in closet. He turned on the light and walked all the way to the back. The wall was covered in a brown reddish paper and there were photos and newspaper articles on it and questions jotted underneath. Frankly, she couldn't process what she was seeing. After the kidnapping, Crews had told her about Mickey Rayborn and Roman and Bodner and their roles in everything, but judging by the photos that was not even half the story.

'Wow, you've got a conspiracy wall. You do realise that this wall cements your insanity?' she said, trying and failing to make light of the situation. Her father was on there somewhere; she was sure of it. Crews watched as she approached the wall and slid her fingers over pictures and mouthed the scribbled captions.

This was huge, Dani realised. Not the conspiracy, but Crews showing her the wall. She couldn't deny that she appreciated the gesture. This was an awful lot of trust all at once. It made her wonder what he wanted in return.

Silently, he stood by and waited, until it became clear that she wasn't about to say something. His hand reached out for her arm, but she glared at it and he dropped it. Back on the defensive, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Come on, let's have it; what do you want?

'I saw a photo of you on Mickey Rayborn's yacht. What were you doing on Mickey Rayborn's yacht?'


	6. Songbird

Author's note:

محبوب ، عزيز is Farsi/Persian for darling. I_think_. If it's not, I hope it's at least something flattering.

**Chapter 6: Songbird **

Jack Reese. Why had she been on Mickey Rayborn's yacht? Jack Reese.

Roughly three months after her father had gone missing; Dani had been invited back to their Sunday night family dinner. That was three months' worth of fear of having her father walk in while persona non grata – 'Dad, did you really sent an innocent man to prison? - sat at the table. The fear wasn't gone when her mother finally found the courage to ask her to come. His seat at the head of the table had stayed empty. No one had been brave enough to sit there. The conversation had been stilted and timid.

After dinner, Dani had gone into his study. They had all been expressly forbidden from entering her father's domain and judging by the layer of fine dust coating every surface her mother had continued to obey his order. Making sure not to touch anything, she had looked around. He kept the bottom drawer of his desk locked, she remembered. A long time ago, she had made the mistake of coming into his study to ask him a question. He had yelled at her, while returning the lamp in the corner to its place.

All these years later, she had found a key taped to the bottom of the lamp's foot. Quietly, she had unlocked the drawer. She hadn't known what she was looking for. On top there had been drawings she had made when she was young. It was difficult to reconcile that angry, yelling man with a father who would deem her childhood drawings worth keeping. She shuffled them aside. Underneath she had discovered bank records, newspaper articles, mug shots and a little notebook.

'Dani, where are you?' her mother had called. She had pocketed the notebook and rearranged the papers to look the way they had before. Then she had pulled out one of her long black hairs and draped it carefully across a drawing of the sky at night. The drawing was so dark that the hair was invisible unless you knew it was there. After relocking the drawer, Dani had returned the key to its original hiding place.

At home that night, she had looked at the notebook. The content was mostly coded. Initials were not hard to make sense of. KH was Kyle Hollis. CC was Charlie Crews. CA was Carl Ames. RN was Roman Nevikov. The only name that didn't put her father to shame was Charlie Crews; the other names seemed to refer almost exclusively to either corrupt cops or criminals. And the only reason Crews' name was in there was because they had all royally screwed him over.

There had also been initials she couldn't place: MR, RS, JD and several others. The initials MR kept returning and she had resolved to try and link them to a name. Odds were good that it was either a police officer or a criminal. She had noticed numerous references to BoLA. It hadn't been difficult to guess what that meant. Bank of Los Angeles.

MR had turned out to be Mickey Rayborn. A retired cop turned rich philanthropist with his own yacht. Dani had visited him there. Instead of receiving the answers she had hoped for, her visit had only brought on more questions. Rayborn hadn't seemed to know what had happened to her father. She had detected a strange interest in her partner and to her extreme annoyance Rayborn had proved himself one of those people unable to answer a question directly. He had either responded with a question of his own or had spouted some cryptic bullshit.

A couple of days later, Rayborn's blood had been splattered all over his yacht and Dani had resolved to stay out of the matter. Her entire life she had tried to distance herself from her father. To be different. To be better. Now he was gone. Well, good riddance. After a short deliberation of whether she should hand the notebook over to Crews, – no: her mother would be devastated if she found out how much of a son of a bitch her husband had really been - the notebook had been banished to the back of her closet. And then Roman had happened.

'I found his name in an old notebook of my father's and went to his boat to ask him whether he knew where my father was. He didn't,' Dani told Crews. Her answer seemed to satisfy him and he proceeded to tell her everything he had uncovered about the conspiracy until now. At the end of his speech, she stared at his wall. The documentation of the innocent lives ruined and ended angered her.

'My father wasn't just mean, was he?' she asked. It was a ridiculous question. The evidence of her father's crimes was staring her in the face. Kyle Hollis, James Dunn, Carl Ames. James Dunn perhaps the JD of the notebook. Crews looked ready to catch her in case she decided to faint. That was even more ridiculous. No one was going to faint.

'Nobody is one thing,' Crews zenned. Where was her detachment? Silently, she fought to regain it, but instead wound up feeling angry and tired. Her stomach churned. In her head an exhausting refrain pounded: _you__care,__you__care._

'What does that mean?' she snapped.

'Someone can be mean and kind, good and bad; all in one. Not everything all the time and some things more often than others, but nobody is merely one thing,' he explained. Everything all the time; that was what it felt like lately. Every-fucking-thing, all the fucking time.

'Why is your lawyer on here? I thought she was the person you could trust on the outside when you were in jail,' Dani asked, in a desperate attempt to change the topic. She was so sick of hearing about her father. Her head swam with thoughts she didn't want to have. The girl downstairs, Rachel, Rachel Seybolt, the sole survivor of the Seybolt family. Ignoring the images her thoughts provoked, she focused on Crews.

'She was, until she wasn't anymore.'

His voice sounded wistful as he gazed at her photo on the wall, as if he had lost more than his lawyer. Which he had, of course, because he had trusted her and she had betrayed him. Dani felt a stab of sadness at the thought of him going at it alone, with only Ted to aid him. Ted, who might be trustworthy, but who was also at best a funny sidekick.

'Crews? Tidwell and I broke up,' she blurted out. He stared at her. She mapped out the route out of the house. Into his bedroom, through the hallway, down the stairs, through the front door. Rachel was somewhere down there, pretending to be fine. That was their secret: they were all pretending to be fine.

'I have to go,' she mumbled. At the bottom of the stairs, Rachel was waiting and Dani understood that was how they had planned it. Crews would tell her everything and Rachel would soften the blow by saying something nice, however untrue, about Dani's father. The fact that _Rachel_ was going to console _her_ was really enough to make her want to start drinking again. Drink, shoot or hurt; one of those.

'In the end, I think your father tried to protect me,' Rachel offered, glancing at Crews for approval. Dani stared at her. The girl's words barely registered. Her entire family... _I__haven__'__t__got__any__normal__people__who__are__actually__related__to__me__to__tell._

'Well, that's one good thing he did then,' Dani croaked out. Feigning calmness, she opened the door and stepped outside.

'Are you okay?' Crews asked. His tone was concerned. She didn't answer. She just backed away and walked to her car. Hitting the steering wheel would have been liberating, but Crews was standing in the doorway watching her, so she started the car and drove away. A few blocks over, she pulled over.

Reality hit her like a sledge hammer. That girl. Rachel Seybolt. It was her father's fault that her family was killed. Father, mother, brother; and Rachel witnessed the murders. James Dunn's death. Carl Ames' death, everyone Roman Nevikov had hurt and killed. Crews losing his marriage. Crews' mother dying. Crews in jail for twelve years. Crews being beaten day after day, being moulded into the volatile, grasping at Zen-straws person he was today. Her father had either made those things happen or done nothing to prevent them.

When she had let it all wash over her, she drove to a liquor store and bought a bottle of vodka. At her apartment, she placed the bottle in the fridge. It would be her safety net, for when she wanted to forget so badly that she wouldn't mind screwing up. Hurriedly, she threw grey sweatpants, a black wife beater, gloves and sneakers into her sport bag and left the apartment again.

She needed to relieve some tension and the shooting range was closed on Sundays. Besides drinking and shooting, the only way she knew how to busy her body and allow her mind to begin the delicate process of turning chaos into order was boxing. And when she said 'turning chaos into order' she meant tucking away everything she couldn't bear to face. As she changed, Dani was grateful for the relative emptiness of the gym.

There was a big bodybuilder type of guy working out on one of the machines and she passed him without a word of greeting. The sandbag was free and, after she tugged on her gloves, she immediately started in on it. In films people were always visualising things. Be the ball, or imagine the ball is someone you hate; in baseball. Punch the sandbag as if it is a person you want to hurt. Dani had never needed this. She possessed enough innate anger to not have to resort to projecting grievances on inanimate objects.

Today, however, as her foot began to throb again, she felt she was hitting the sandbag as if it was to blame for everything that had happened. To herself. To the Seybolts. To Rachel. To Crews. She lost all concept of time as she kept beating the bag. Bodybuilder guy came over and introduced himself as Ron. He asked her if she wanted to have a go at him.

She looked him over. Ron was all bulging muscles and popping veins. Very Hulk Hogan. Also, not very handy in a boxing match. Dani was fit and agile and knew how to utilise her strength. This guy looked like he could barely walk with his massive thighs.

'Sure,' she said. It was probably a stupid idea, since her right foot was still sore and this wasn't very conducive to its healing, but fuck that.

It became immediately clear to Dani that Ron had not boxed before. He admitted as much, saying that he was more of a weights and machines guy. Still, he was confident that he could handle a tiny girl like herself. She grinded her teeth at the way he described her and positioned her feet. It would be a pleasure to wipe the smug grin off his face.

They circled each other. Ron was making all the classic mistakes. He wavered between holding his fists too close and too far away from his body. His steps were hesitant and unsure. Even though her block betrayed that she was right handed, Dani could see that he didn't have a clue where a hit would come from. He smirked at her and she landed a quick jab to his abdomen. Liver, she guessed.

Before he could react, she was out of his range. He laughed lightly, pretending not to feel anything, but he couldn't mask his amazement at her speed. That was the advantage of being small and slim. Her petite build allowed her to be quick on her feet and flexible, while his bulky frame almost guaranteed he wouldn't be as fast as her. As he was most likely busy having an entire internal conversation instead of paying attention, she struck the same spot again.

Ron wobbled a bit on his legs, but stayed upright. The pain he was experiencing was sharp and lingered a bit before fading, Dani knew. He dropped his right hand as he swung back his left fist. It was a rookie mistake. Not only did he practically telegraph his intention, he also compromised his defence. Easily, she dodged his attempt and threw a right hook that connected with his jaw.

His hands shot back up to defend his face and she darted to his side and aimed a straight punch at his liver again. This time he managed to evade her attack and she only grazed his waist. The next few punches landed exactly where she wanted them. She kept them short and abrupt. Her fist revisited his liver with a nice looping hook and connected a couple of times with his ribs. The onslaught of hits slowed him down even further.

Her movements were starting to hurt her foot, so she eased up and matched his sluggish tempo. His arrogance had evaporated by now and he was beginning to look a little embarrassed. Suddenly, he straightened up and approached her with his hands at his side. On her guard, Dani allowed him to approach. He shook her hand and smiled.

'Guess that'll teach me to call experienced boxers little girls, huh?' he laughed. Maybe Ron wasn't so bad after all, she thought. She wondered whether Crews could box. Twelve years in prison must have thought him a lot about hand to hand combat; otherwise – being a cop – he wouldn't have come out alive. He would probably be very good at it. His Zen attitude would mean his inner monologue was virtually nonexistent, so it couldn't interfere with his reaction time. Being in the moment; that was what boxing was all about.

'Thanks for sparring with me. I hope those liver shots weren't too painful,' she said. Ron chuckled and clutched his abdomen in mock pain. Reluctantly, she returned to her sandbag. Aside from the inevitable thoughts about Crews immediately returning, Dani thought about two things. How easy it would be to go home with Ron and how unsatisfactory pummelling the sandbag felt. She wanted to inflict pain.

Her thoughts mercifully found a distraction in the serial killer case. Something occurred to her. If he was going to kill again he would need another dumping place, because the site behind the leather factory was compromised. That was something she could safely mention to Crews the next time she saw him, she thought triumphantly as she punched the bag.

As to how she was feeling; _Not__Fine_ was still kicking _Fine_'s ass. She stayed at the gym, until her foot felt as if it was about to fall off.

(***)

That night.

The disappearance of her father had put a considerable strain on her family. Her mother's sadness was tinged with relief; Dani's relief was tinged with the minimal amount of sadness. The others had been unsure of how to act and react, but perhaps they were now starting to accept that he was not coming back. Dani remembered Roman's words as she looked around the table.

They were slowly adjusting to her father's absence. Conversation was more animated. Her aunts and uncles were starting to loosen up; even the children's table was louder than it had ever been. Her mother was walking in and out of the dining room with dishes. She looked better.

'Here are the potatoes, محبوب ، عزيز,' her mother said as she handed Dani the dish. Suddenly, everyone was quiet and all gazes were fixed on her mother as the woman attempted to recover. Dani's mother flinched and glanced at the empty seat at the head of the table. When Dani took the proffered dish, her mother smiled gratefully.

'Here they are, محبوب ، عزيز,' her mother repeated, more confidently. Conversation resumed. After dinner, Dani went into her father's study again. She unlocked the drawer. The hair was still in place. Nothing was disturbed. In the kitchen, her mother was putting the plates into the dishwasher and she helped.

'Can I ask you a question, Dani?' she asked as she wiped down the counter. Leaning against the counter, Dani nodded. Her mother wrung out the damp cloth above the sink before facing her.

'Is something wrong?'

Like a dutiful daughter, Dani shook her head. Her mother nodded as if that was the answer she had expected. Smoothing her long dress, her mother sat down. Outside, a full moon illuminated the garden. Night had settled over Los Angeles bringing darkness with it. Clouds obscured the moon from time to time.

'For a long time, your father told me what to do. 'Sunday night dinner is only for family. No one is allowed to speak Persian in my house.' I wanted to invite your partner over when you first started to work together, but your father didn't like him. Now I am telling you; anytime you want to invite the man who saved you over for Sunday night dinner, he's more than welcome.'

'Mom...' Dani whispered.

'That is all I have to say,' her mother concluded. She got up and patted Dani's shoulder. Such a strong woman. If something good had come out of this mess, it was how capable her mother had proven herself to be. Managing without her father's pay check, babysitting a couple of kids two streets over every Saturday to make some extra cash, refusing to accept Dani's money: her mother had emerged stronger than from the tragedy she didn't even know had befallen her. _If_Roman had been telling the truth; _if_ Jack Reese was truly dead.

(***)

Somehow she ended up at Crews' door; that would have been a nice thing to be able to say. Instead, she had decided to go there, had driven there deliberately. Her bruised foot protesting when she stepped onto the driveway and walked to his door.

'I'm fine,' she said when he opened the door. He didn't display any surprise at finding her on his doorstep so late at night. All he did was let her in and close the door behind her, before answering her claim, flatly.

'Yes. I am fine and Rachel is fine too.'

The dog sniffed at her shoes and scampered away. The house was quiet. Teenage girls weren't quiet, were they? They listened to loud music to annoy their parents or, in this case, guardian. Normal teenage girls did that. Dani gazed upstairs and through the rooms she could see from her position in the large hall. No Rachel.

'Don't mock me. I don't buy that little happy family play you two were putting on this morning,' Dani told him. She walked into the living room. Not only was there a new couch and coffee table, he also had an immense TV installed in the wall. Again no Rachel.

Crews looked disappointed that she hadn't bought their act. He probably thought that if he believed it hard enough it would become true. Like happiness was a fairy that you could sustain by believing in it. God, Dani wished that was the way it worked.

'Rachel was only here for the weekend. I think she was relieved when I had to work yesterday. She was supposed to go back to the dorms tomorrow morning, but she decided to go tonight,' Crews said in response to her questioning glances. He sounded tired and defeated. As if something he had done had made the girl leave.

'Around me she's...'

'Crews, the man she thought was her father turned out to have killed her father. It's not you,' Dani interrupted him. No matter how much she liked him, she wasn't about to be a witness to his damn pity party. Crews would have to try much harder to even approach the epic levels of bad father Dani's father had been. Traumas, conspiracies, secrets and all; he was doing okay as a surrogate father.

'I've thought about the serial killer case,' she began. It was a better subject than thinking about Crews or her father or Rachel or anything really, which was pretty disturbing in itself. They sat down on the couch, which was a bigger relief than she wanted to admit, because her foot was acting up again.

'He needs another place to dump the bodies,' Dani explained. Crews stared into the distance and eventually looked at her.

'He needs another place to dump the bodies,' he repeated.

'Don't repeat what I said as if you just thought of it,' she protested, annoyed. The compassion she had been feeling over his failure to connect with Rachel evaporated instantly. His ability to change her emotions from sympathy to irritation within seconds was truly unique.

'But he already has another place; behind the leather factory,' he went on. His voice sounded puzzled. About as puzzled as she felt, Dani estimated.

'What do you mean?' she questioned. His knee brushed against hers as she leaned closer. He laid his theory out for her.

'He started working at the leather factory in his early twenties, but he presumably killed cats at the age of thirteen. I think it may have rattled him a little that he was suspected of killing the cats. Maybe he stopped killing pets and targeted stray cats. Maybe he didn't kill cats in his own neighbourhood anymore. Maybe he hid the bodies better,' Crews speculated and Dani continued in the same direction.

'He learned from his mistakes, became more careful. The oldest corpse had been lying there for over thirty years. That would mean he started killing people at the same time he went to work at the factory. You know, I find it hard to believe that it would take him ten years to graduate from murdering cats to murdering people. He wouldn't have been _that_rattled.'

Crews nodded. They both looked at their touching knees and Dani moved away slightly. The sudden pain in her foot caused her to groan, but she covered it up with a cough.

'So, what you're saying is that he didn't wait. That means he had a place to bury the victims he made before he went to work at the leather factory. He was young and inexperienced. He must have made mistakes. Where could that place be?' Dani asked.

'As far as we've seen, he never wanders far from home. He still lives with his mother. The factory is across the street from their house, he doesn't leave the street when he walks the dog and the bar he frequents is only one block away,' Crews summed up.

The answer was almost too simple. Where did adolescent boys bury things? In their own back yard.

'But wouldn't his mother have known?' Dani asked.

'People are very good at not knowing what they don't want to know. Your foot still hurts,' he remarked out of nowhere.

'No, it doesn't,' she answered, though it hadn't been a question. Dani thought she had been hiding her pain pretty well and to her knowledge she hadn't limped once.

'You favour one foot over the other. I'm making you a footbath,' he announced and he got up.

'It's late, so I have to go anyway. That's not...' Dani protested, but, realising he was already out of earshot, she muttered, '...necessary. Great, he's not listening.'

Briefly, she considered leaving before he came back, but that kind of defeated the purpose of her visit. This was a trial run of sorts. She wanted to see whether this could work, the two of them, unrelated to the job and they had only discussed work up until now. From the bathroom, she could hear him humming something while he filled a bowl with warm water. It was very quiet otherwise, aside from the occasional coyote howling to the moon outside.

After he exited the bathroom, - she could clearly hear the water sloshing in the bowl as he walked around - he went to the kitchen. A few seconds later, Crews came back with the bowl in one hand, a towel slung over his shoulder and half a lime in his other hand. The dog followed him. When he put the bowl down, she spotted the other half of the lime lying on the bottom. For a multimillionaire, it was a rather sorry footbath.

'What's with the lime?' Dani asked. A mixture of curiosity and suspicion overtook her as he sat down next to her on the couch and patted his knees. The dog took that as his cue to jump on, but Crews put him kindly back on the floor. Miffed, the dog disappeared out of sight. Overtly looking at her, he patted his knees again, but she didn't react.

'Give me your feet.'

'What, are you going to give me a foot rub?'

'Yes.'

'You're serious?'

'Come on.'

'Crews...'

Despite her reluctance, he took her feet and lifted them into his lap. Fascinated, she watched his face. No man had ever wanted to touch her so badly that he was willing to resort to massaging her feet. Dani shifted and leaned back against the cushions as he carefully took off her shoes one by one and then peeled off her socks.

While his tenderness freaked her out, it also made her feel safe in some strange way. It made her feel special. He probed the bruise on her right foot and she kept very still. As he folded the hems of her jeans several times, she was glad that she had shaved her legs that morning. There was a steady determination in his movements as he picked up the other half of the lime from the coffee table, where he'd temporarily placed it. He rested her feet in the bowl, while he rubbed the sole of her right foot with the lime.

The temperature of the water was just right, but Dani found it difficult to surrender to the sensation. Moaning in your partner's house late at night wasn't appropriate. Nor was lying down and closing your eyes, which she felt like doing, because it felt otherworldly good. He shifted his attention to her left foot and started to scrub her other sole.

Gently holding her feet, he rotated her ankles clockwise and then counterclockwise. Already, the water had relaxed her muscles to the extent that the movement barely hurt. Crews proceeded to make her want to moan with pleasure by rotating every one of her toes the same way and ending by softly pulling on each one.

'Did you know that reflexology believes that the pressure points on the soles of your feet are connected to various areas of your body?'

'Everything is connected? I did not know that.'

Taking his hands off her feet earned him a disappointed sigh, which embarrassed her to her core and made him chuckle. Trying to hide his smile, he spread the towel over his knees and lifted her left foot. She tensed as if she was trying to ball her foot into a fist as he approached her foot with his hands. Waiting, he frowned at her, but she wordlessly urged him to go on.

She shuddered as he enveloped her foot with his hands and began to knead its sole with his thumbs. He started out gently, working around the knots, but gradually pushed deeper, hitting every sore spot. The tension drained from her body and this time she simply couldn't resist any longer. Sighing loudly, she sank into the couch pillows and closed her eyes.

It felt like she was having an orgasm. No exaggeration, no hyperbole; it felt _that_ good. Her body hummed with pleasure as his thumbs moved in semicircles over the ball of her foot. Everything was done so methodically. He explored every inch of her foot sliding his long, strong fingers from opposite sides of her sole towards each other.

'Oh God,' Dani moaned, as his soft fingertips teased the sensitive skin of her sole. Her hands clawed at the couch as she arched her back. Immediately, his nails raked across her sole and he sent another wave of pleasure through her body. Her troubling feelings, her fears, her doubts: everything melted away under his soothing fingers.

'Where did you learn to do this?' she asked, breathlessly.

'I had a lot of time to read in prison,' he answered as he continued to sent little, delicious shivers down her spine.

'And you chose to read about foot rubs?' she joked. She was surprised she could still speak. She was amazed that her speech was coherent and not mindless gibberish, because she didn't even feel human anymore. She felt like jelly, like a blob of jelly floating on a calm sea.

'It helped me imagine how it had been. Physical contact. A good human touch. It made me remember what it felt like. I was afraid I would forget otherwise. Also, I was there for twelve years and the collection of books to choose from wasn't that large,' he dryly concluded.

'Crews?'

'Yes, Reese.'

'I'm not fine, but I feel that when I'm with you it's alright.'


	7. The chain

**Chapter 7: The chain **

'I never came over to your house. Copy that?'

'How's your foot?'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah; good. I never came over to your house yesterday. Never happened. And if Tidwell asks when we came up with the idea about the serial killer's hidden bodies, what do you say?'

'We talked about it this morning on our ride to work?' Crews said, hesitantly. He was sitting at his desk, giving Dani the advantage of being able to look down on him. Squirming under her gaze, he tried to rotate his chair, but Dani gripped the arm rests and leaned closer.

'Don't you dare make it sound like a question. I'd hate to have to shoot you,' she warned. Crews clutched his heart, pretending to be hurt by her threat. A rehearsed cough behind her made Dani turn. The new department therapist was staring at Dani over her glasses. In a motion that would forever continue to annoy Dani, she pushed her glasses up.

'Do you think it's wise to sneak up to people with guns?' Dani asked. It was too early for her to be dealing with this idiot, so she proceeded to ignore the therapist – 'Please call me Andrea. Can I call you Dani?' 'No.' – and gathered the files on their desks. Their desks had almost faded into one and that was a smidgen disturbing. When Dani prepared to go into Tidwell's office to inform him about their new idea, she witnessed Dr. Beck making eyes at Crews.

'Crews!' Dani barked and to her intense satisfaction this startled Dr. Beck a little bit.

'You sound angry, detective Reese,' Dr. Beck remarked. Dani rolled her eyes and kicked Crews' chair. With a maddeningly pleased expression on his face, Crews pushed himself out of his chair.

'In light of the manner in which you treat your partner and the reluctance of both of you to divulge information in your mandatory therapy session, I think it would be prudent if you and Charlie attend some more therapy sessions. I recommend group therapy and definitely partners' therapy,' Dr. Beck suggested, raising her voice slightly because they were already halfway across the squad room. When the words got through to Dani she angrily veered around with a sharp retort. Crews quickly placed a calming hand on her arm and navigated her into Tidwell's office.

'What were you going to say?' he asked. The left corner of his mouth curled up in a manner reminiscent of her dream about him. Shaking off the image of him eating orange slices out of her hand, Dani replied.

'I was going to tell her that I think it would be prudent if she shoved her recommendation...'

Another fake cough interrupted her explanation. They stared at Tidwell, who stared at them. Dani immediately straightened and focused and Crews also quickly plastered a smile on his face, but his hand still rested on her arm.

'Hand,' she hissed and he dropped his hand to his side. Dani thought his smile was supposed to convey innocence, but instead it was conspicuous as hell. Their captain seemed to be unsure of how to react to their unorthodox entrance. Unease, hilarity and hurt flitted across his face, before he settled on unease. They stared at each other some more, until Dani snapped to attention and told Tidwell about their hunch regarding the_possible_ serial killer's _possible_private grave yard.

'That's some impressive brainstorming, since you're usually barely able to talk before nine o'clock,' Tidwell said to her, though he didn't comment any further on the unlikelihood of her having any coherent thoughts in the early hours of the morning.

'Unfortunately, we're not going to get a search warrant on the basis of his creepiness. Up until now no physical, forensic evidence links this Tim Greer of yours to the crime,' Tidwell pointed out and added, 'which reminds me; two bodies have been identified and the task of informing their families falls to you.'

He indicated two files on his desk. Dani picked them up and flipped through them. Two bodies had been identified with the aid of dental records. The mass grave had been entirely devoid of identification papers, clothes, jewellery or anything else by which the bodies could have been identified; thus, only DNA and dental records were an option. The real kicker was that up until not so long ago families didn't think to preserve some DNA of a missing person and neither did the police.

'We don't need a search warrant if we have the permission of the owner of the house,' Crews said. Dani scanned the picture of a girl in her late twenties who had disappeared in 1999.

'How are you going to get that?' Tidwell asked. The detectives exchanged a glance. If Tim Greer's mother was as much in denial as they thought she was, then she'd perhaps give permission. She was the owner of the house. It was worth a try.

'Ask,' they simultaneously answered.

(***)

Fifteen minutes later, Dani exited the car with a groan. Crews tipped his sunglasses down to look at her.

'God, I hate this,' she muttered as they made their way to the front door. It came with the job and it was one of those things that never got easier. Nor should it. Shooting someone, seeing someone die, telling the family that their son, daughter, mother, father had died; it forever remained as awful as it had been the first time. There was a desire to say 'had died,' but if they were involved the person had, of course, been murdered.

So, you lead with that. Everything at once, because you don't want them to ask whether it had been a car accident or something and then have to deliver a second shock and add that no, it was murder. Everything bad the family needed to know needed to be contained in one sentence. No hemming, no hawing, no uncomfortable silence where the family has to fucking deduce that something horrible has happened.

The first time Dani had to tell a wife that her husband had been killed, she had felt like crying herself. Now, she had gotten to a place where she could detach herself from the family's grief. Yet, that was somehow also awful, only in a different way. Crews rang the doorbell and didn't step aside.

'What are you doing?' Dani asked. Her irritation was clearly audible in her voice. Crews glanced at her.

'You said...'

'You don't have to do my work for me,' she snapped. Smiling apologetically, he let her take his place, while he sort of faded into the background. Dani suspected that it was the influence of Dr. Beck. Bla bla therapy bla. And now Crews was treating her like she couldn't even break the bad news anymore. Fuck.

'I was...' he tried to explain, but she silenced him with a rude hand gesture. Inside the house, she could hear voices calling out. The eternal family fight over whose duty it is to open the door; Dani knew it well. From the families of friends. Just another normal childhood memory she had never personally experienced.

'Well, don't be,' she requested, ringing the doorbell again. The voices were either louder or approaching the front door, probably both.

'That is impossible, Reese. I can't not be,' he objected and she glared at him. Don't pull that innocent crap with me, she wanted to say. That might work on other people, but I know you too well. Of course, she couldn't say that out loud, because it would mean too much. So, as she heard the bolts and locks on the door shifting, she settled for a verbal putdown.

'Just shut up. Can you do that for me?' she asked. The door opened and she showed her badge to the teenage boy who opened the door. His eyes were blue just like the eyes of the woman in the picture. He would have been about four when his mother disappeared. All she had to do was step aside and Crews would handle it.

'Matthew Reid?' she asked and the boy nodded. God, I hate this, she thought again.

'Is your father home?'

(***)

Two hours later. They were standing around the corner of the Greer residence and Dani was feeling so very tired. Two talks telling family members that their loved ones were never coming back home because they had been killed by some psychopath; fun times. She was ready for the day to be over when it had barely even started.

Tidwell was talking something over with the team of forensic investigators and while she understood why they were here, she didn't know how their captain had managed to get them here. As of right now, there was still not a shred of evidence tying Tim Greer to the murder of 34 people. Perhaps he trusted Crews' intuition too. Said Crews was leaning on a spade, but she thought that was kind of pushing his luck. Even if Mrs. Greer agreed to a house search, would she be so quick to allow her yard to be dug up?

He was looking very photogenic leaning on that spade, though. The unexpected thought made her wince. Tidwell got out of the van and approached them. The three of them walked over to the front door of the house and Crews and Tidwell squabbled over who should do the asking.

'I can't ask her. She'll refuse if I ask her. You do it,' Tidwell urged Crews.

'Why me?'

'Because women like you. She won't refuse if you ask her,' Tidwell insisted.

'Do I really have that effect on women?' Crews asked, doubtfully. Both men looked at Dani. She scoffed.

'Don't look at me. I'm immune,' she answered their looks. Skilled liar she was, she didn't even bat an eye. Crews knocked and they waited for the door to be opened. Mrs. Greer still looked as incapable of spawning a serial killer as she had always done. Crews turned on the charm, though, to be fair, he didn't actually behave differently. He calmly took Mrs. Greer's arm and asked her whether she had any objections to them searching the house.

'No, I suppose not now that Tim isn't home,' she softly said, looking unsure. The woman noticed the spade Crews was holding and while Crews was looking at the photos in the hallway and Tidwell was ushering in the searchers, Dani caught Mrs. Greer glancing at the back of the house. Underneath her reticence, there was something else. Relief, and perhaps even eagerness, to have this resolved.

She knew, but she also didn't know. It was doublethink, straight out of _1984_; a book Dani had been forced to read in school and which she'd found intriguing. Holding two mutually contradictory beliefs in your mind at once. Criminals were capable of it. Thinking they were innocent when they knew they weren't. Dani was capable of it too. Knowing and not knowing at the same time.

And the whole thing had started with this woman asking Crews to help her cross the street and casually remarking that she was glad her son could not be implicated in the murders. Had that been a sort of hint; a hint that luckily Crews had picked up on?

'Mrs. Greer? Would you mind if we dug up the garden?' Dani asked. Crews stepped closer to the photos, as if her answer wasn't of vital importance. Mrs. Greer blushed slightly and wrung her hands.

'George was going to redo the garden,' she mumbled. Patiently, Dani waited. Crews blew some dust off one of the photos. Most of them were of Tim; her only child. Others featured both Mrs. Greer and her son. The one Crews was looking at pictured Mrs. Greer, an older gentleman and Tim.

'Mrs. Greer?' Dani whispered and her voice startled the woman.

'Please call me Meg, dear. No, I don't think I mind. It's not much of a garden anyway,' Mrs. Greer answered as she led them to the back and out into the garden. Dani had to agree with her. The garden looked rather dismal. A wheelbarrow with a flat tire was lying on its side in the mud. Something resembling a pond was located in the right corner, but she was pretty sure nothing was living in there. The surface of the pond was coated with fallen leaves. Weeds were everywhere and honestly, the garden was little more than a neglected heap of sand.

Mrs. Greer wrung her hands again and her gaze kept flitting to the left of the garden. Dani signalled Tidwell and he took the poor woman inside. None of their forensic guys was really volunteering to dig, so Dani dismissed them with a wave. She took Crews' spade and marched over to the left side of the garden. It hadn't rained recently, so the earth was hard and dry.

She rolled up her sleeves and started to dig. She liked this. The sheer physicality of it. The exertion that prevented her from thinking. Her hands hurting, in a good way. When she reached a scrap of green tarpaulin, she felt almost sad, even while she was relieved to not be digging up some nice lady's garden for nothing. How many victims whose lives had prematurely ended were buried here? People, man; fucking _people_. They were the worst.

Dani paused and leaned on the spade, panting. Crews offered to take over, but she declined. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she started to think. What was she doing not letting Crews tell her he loved her? What was wrong with her? Love was a good thing; why was she reacting so negatively to it?

'Shh, Reese. Listen to the wind blow,' Crews said. Then again, Crews was clearly unhinged and Dani was already unhinged enough for the both of them. She didn't need another person to take care of. She could barely take care of herself.

''Listen to the wind blow?' Who am I: Pocahontas?' she asked sarcastically and continued to dig until she'd uncovered the whole upper side of the tarpaulin. Judging by the volume, there were at least three bodies swaddled in there. She handed the spade to Crews and took a pair of rubber gloves out of her pocket. Slipping them on, she accepted Crews' knife and kneeled by the green cloth. There was no telltale smell until she carefully sliced open the tarpaulin and encountered the greyish remains of what had once been an arm. The putrefied odour hit her square in the face and she quickly got to her feet and allowed Crews to lift her out of the hole.

From now on it was a job for someone else. Crews accompanied her inside. They explained to Mrs. Greer what they had found and she cried softly. Not a surprise, but still a shock, Dani guessed. Tim, alerted by their non-covert stake outs, had known something was up and had left two days ago, which made Dani want to kick herself. If they hadn't been so wrapped up in their own lives, they might have been able to stop him. Mrs. Greer claimed not to know where he had gone.

Tidwell poured her another cup of coffee, but didn't seem to believe her story. Neither did Crews and Dani, but they couldn't badger the woman into giving up her son's whereabouts. Not right now anyway.

(***)

Dani had known plenty of bad days when she was addicted, but this day could easily rival one of those.

Back at the station, Tidwell kindly informed Dani that Dr. Beck had scheduled Crews and her for partners' therapy next week and that they were supposed to attend group therapy after work that day. Dani was glad that Crews was not there to hear it, because she didn't think she could have put up with one of his patented unperturbed looks. She predicted that he wouldn't care; in fact, he would probably be amused like Tidwell obviously was.

'Partner therapy? Like couples therapy? You've got to be fucking kidding me. Can't you do something?' she pleaded. Briefly, Tidwell looked up from the paperwork on his desk and considered her request.

'Have you talked to Charlie about the kidnapping?' he finally asked. Damn it! She could lie, of course, but he would just ask Crews and Crews would tell the truth. Damn.

'No,' she admitted. After another look at one of the files before him, he closed it and looked at her. She knew what he was going to say long before he said it.

'Then no on my end too. Therapy it is.'

That would have been the perfect moment to storm out and slam the door so hard that the glass in the window would crack, but something occurred to her.

'You did this, didn't you?' she asked. Tidwell fixed her with a stern gaze and sighed heavily.

'No Dani, I didn't sic a therapist on you. According to her, you were threatening to shoot people all over the place. Call in Charlie, will you,' he said, returning his attention to the files again. Dani leaned out of his office and beckoned Crews over. Tidwell continued to needlessly stack the files on top of each other and shuffle the pile around the desk. When Crews came in, she saw that he immediately became aware of the strange atmosphere and naturally he responded by appearing as relaxed as possible. Tidwell straightened the stack, waited until Crews had closed the door and locked in on both of them.

'Look, I know you know this, but I'm still going to say it; I wouldn't be surprised if therapy was the brass' way of trying to find out more about the kidnapping,' Tidwell said and Dani felt supremely stupid. She hadn't even considered the possibility that Dr. Beck's sudden therapy demands could be related to the still open investigation into the kidnapping. As she glanced at Crews, she saw that he was not surprised at all.

So far, no one but those directly involved knew anything other than the most rudimentary facts about what they, and especially Crews, had done. They knew he had killed a rogue FBI agent to save Bodner, they knew he had tried to take Rayborn to Roman and absolutely everybody in the whole fucking world knew that he had traded himself for her by getting into the car with Roman. Luckily, the higher-ups were a little fuzzy about the details.

'There are a lot of rumours going around, but so far they've got no evidence, except against Charlie. And interfering with an ongoing investigation isn't exactly a capital offense. The FBI agent Charlie killed may or not have been on Roman's payroll, they don't know why Bodner was about to be killed and they don't know how Charlie knew this. They also know that one of Roman's cars was found burned out and that the car contained a corpse, which may or may not be Roman, who may or may not have been killed and whose killer may or may not be Charlie,' Tidwell explained, smirking at every 'may or may not.'

Folding his hands on his desk, Tidwell leaned forward and suddenly turned serious.

'So, just...don't give them anything. Be careful of what you say. Stick to your story. That's it. Run along,' he concluded. Crews held the door open for her and they slowly walked to their desks.

'Therapy?' Crews asked. She opened and closed the drawers looking for nothing in particular and growing increasingly frustrated at not finding whatever she was not really looking for, while she answered his question.

'You know who's in therapy? Tony,' he said in response to the knowledge that they would be subjected to therapy unless they were up for a lengthy, non-paid suspension. She stopped rooting around in her desk long enough to glare at him.

'Tony? From records,' he clarified, as if she gave a damn who was in therapy. Mumbling curses, she opened the bottom drawer again and stared at its contents without actually seeing them. She closed it with a bang.

'That's just great. We're going to have to pretend to spill our guts to all the idiots in the department. How do you even know that?' she ranted. Her foot angrily tapped against the side of the desk. Her right foot, which felt more than fine after Crews' expert massage. Not thinking about that, she thought, and abruptly stopped tapping.

'What is it called when you remember everything people say?' Crews asked.

'A pain in the ass?'

'Reese, listen...'

'I know this is supposedly what got us into this mess, but I swear that if you tell me to listen to the wind one more time I will shoot you.'

'We're inside,' he said, perplexed. Her foot started up again. Crews raised his eyebrows and smiled. It was a disarming smile and she didn't have the strength to resist it. She smiled back.

(***)

The day from hell simply refused to end

There was a small group waiting outside of the room. Anger management. That was what the little makeshift sign said. If Dani hadn't known that the whole therapy thing was bullshit before, she knew now. Like anyone who didn't know Crews would know that he needed anger management. He came across as the most harmless, peaceful person to ever have lived. Ghandi had nothing on Crews. Under all the layers there was another story, but that didn't matter here, since the least likely person to succeed at peeling away those layers was Dr. Beck.

The damn woman was already five minutes late. Crews leaned against the wall, while she kept rolling her aching shoulders. Checking her watch again, she sighed and went to stand next to Crews. Their arms touched and instead of readjusting her position to put some distance between them, she remained put. Crews didn't move away either.

The warmth from his arm could be felt even through his clothes. She looked up at him and he looked down. She liked his face. She liked how his face could be a lie, but it rarely was with her. As if he took an effort to be honest with her.

'Charlie!' a voice boomed. Immediately, Dani shuffled a bit to the side, so that their arms were no longer touching. Bobby nodded at her and she nodded back. His nod to Crews was about a thousand times friendlier.

'Anger management, huh? My hand slipped during an arrest. What's your excuse?' Bobby asked, curiously.

'I didn't do anything; Reese did,' Crews answered. This seemed to pique Bobby's curiosity even more and he nudged Dani. She didn't appreciate the forced nature of his interaction. They weren't friends and she was not going to pretend they were. Nonetheless, she answered.

'I threatened to shoot Crews and apparently I also implied that I would shoot the therapist.'

Bobby winked at Crews, but Crews didn't respond. Dr. Beck decided to finally arrive and opened the door. There were desks and chairs in there; it resembled a classroom. Dani picked one of the seats in the back of the room; Crews sat down next to her, Bobby next to Crews.

Introductions were made. Dr. Beck said something about people having different identities. Leaning towards Crews, Dani said she thought only criminals had different identities. A couple of people in front of them shushed her. Dr. Beck stared at her.

'Yes, Reese, shush,' Crews said seriously, but he could barely contain his merriment. She slumped back in her seat, tuning out the therapist's voice. For forty-five minutes she did her best to appear as uncooperative and bored as she could. Suddenly, someone started to hand out papers and pens. Dani prepared to ask Crews what they were supposed to be doing, until she obstinately decided that she really didn't care.

'Don't look, Reese. I can see you're looking,' Crews warned as he started to write. That was not true, because she had been miles away again until his voice startled her out of her reverie. Thus, she rolled her eyes, which cause Crews to raise his hand.

'Ma'am, Mrs. Therapist, Reese is looking,' he announced. With his hand waving in the air, he looked ridiculously like an overenthusiastic teenager. Dani saw the annoyance on Dr. Beck's face at being addressed in such a way. Several other people looked around and stared at Dani. If she was prone to blushing, this would have been the time, but instead she gazed straight ahead.

'I wasn't looking,' she protested. Now, her interest had been sparked and she leaned over to look at Crews' paper. Her own name was scrawled at the top. Underneath five words were written, from top to bottom:

Cop.

Partner.

Ex-addict.

Daughter.

Woman.

She guessed it had something to do with the different identities everyone but she had been discussing earlier. Different identities; what bullshit. It reminded her eerily of Crews' 'nobody is one thing' speech. It worried her that Crews had 'daughter' written on there. Was that how he thought about her; as Jack Reese's daughter?

Dr. Beck was walking around and Dani didn't want to draw attention to herself again by receiving a lecture for not having written anything down, so she uncapped the pen and stared at the paper.

Crews, she wrote down. After that the rest quickly materialised.

Weirdo.

Partner.

Cop.

Man.

Ex-convict.

She felt strangely guilty about the last identity, but it made up so much of who he was and how he had become this way that she couldn't leave it out. Plus, Crews had her labelled an ex-addict; they were even.

'Switch?' she whispered to Crews and they exchanged papers. He approved of most of it, though he didn't think weirdo was an identity. Without Dr. Beck noticing, they swapped the papers back. His fingers brushed hers and confused, Dani looked at him. He held on to her paper a little longer than was necessary and maintained eye contact throughout. She held her breath and only let it out when he let go. Someone came by to pick up the papers and then the session was blissfully over.

Dani drove Crews home, while he was uncharacteristically silent. As she parked in front of his house, he took out a tape.

'I want you to have this. I'd like for you to listen to it. When you're ready,' he said and he placed the tape on the dashboard. His face was so damn honest and open. She averted her eyes and recognised the tape as one of his Zen tapes, but she was confident he didn't want her to listen to some mumbo jumbo about meditation or forgiveness. It was that pesky four letter word again that kept popping up everywhere lately: love.

'I haven't got a tape player,' she stammered. That was the best she could do, really. He smiled at her so full of hope and she could just picture herself smashing and destroying it. Him. Or he would hurt her. Either way, that way lays madness, because she would have to be insane to go there with him. Except with every day that passed it seemed to become more sensible to give in and crazier to resist.

'You'll figure something out.'


	8. You make loving fun

**Chapter 8: You make loving fun **

As they were waiting for Dr. Beck to call them in, Dani felt her mind start to wander.

The problem with enlightenment was that things that should stay in the dark suddenly weren't in the dark anymore. To know that they were there was bad enough, but to have them right there for everyone to see would be worse. So, while the Zen might be kind of working for Crews, Dani was determined not to let it seep into her life, because compared to her, Crews' skeletons in the closet were kids' stuff.

Let's look at my past, she thought: the Bank of Los Angeles, alcohol, her long road as a barely functioning alcoholic until the heavy drugs, the wrong boyfriends, her father and his extracurricular activities and the meaningless sex. That was all in the shadows, except when Crews looked at her and proposed they meditate. When he looked into her eyes, the single thing she missed the most was the meaningless sex, which thanks to Kevin she hadn't had in quite some time. Or Kevin had been part of it; depended on how you looked at it.

So, meaningless sex meant nothing. That was the great thing about it. It was the thing she liked about it and abhorred at the same time, because connecting was not something that came easy to her. It was not something she aspired to. Except with Crews, where that connection was just there. With whom it was strangely easy and a struggle at the same time. It drove her insane.

There had been one teacher in high school who had answered every question that demanded either a yes or a no with a yes _and_a no. It was annoying as hell and Dani had been relieved when she had finally managed to sleep with him. All the respect she'd had for him had been gone in the five minutes it took him to get off.

The harsh reality had been that she knew what would happen if he consented to sleep with her. The teacher had cared about her and hadn't wanted to, but in the end he had given in, thinking he was giving her something. Love, maybe, but instead of giving her something, he had taken something from her. Not her virginity, nothing as dramatic as that, but the notion that there were good people whom she could trust. People who wouldn't cross a certain line; no matter how hard she pushed or pulled.

The trouble with Crews was that he would lay bare things she wanted to keep hidden. Sex with him wouldn't be meaningless and it wouldn't make her lose her respect for him. Crews was a yes and a no at the same time. Testing her and not testing her, aware and oblivious, there and also not quite there. Crews was a life she could have and it would be better than the existence that passed for a life that she currently had.

Was she willing to give Crews up as a partner to gain him as something else? Yes and no. Did she feel the same as he did? Yes and no. Was she ready for this? Yes and no. Yes and no. Yes and no. No was still ahead in the polls, but yes was gaining ground. Yes, she wanted to kiss him and find out how he tasted. Yes, she wanted to feel his skin hot against her. No, she didn't think it was a good idea.

More to the point, does enlightenment work if the darkness is inside of you? It didn't start with the Bank of Los Angeles and the drinking. It had always been there, lurking, waiting to escape and it would have found its way out eventually. Crews wasn't like that.

'So, you think waiting with me for five minutes in an empty room is the equivalent of psychological torture?' Crews asked. The room they were in had its walls painted in baby blue, which Dani assumed was supposed to be a calming colour. However, like everything lately, it just made her mad. The colour, the walls, the very existence of this room, the fact that she was forced to be here; everything made her angry.

'What kind of shampoo do you use? It smells like fruit,' Dani said, ignoring Crews' question. Technically, she had already answered it when she had said that waiting with him was like a special form of psychological torture, which had prompted his unnecessary question.

'Green apple shampoo. Ted bought it,' he answered as he peered quizzically at her.

'It smells nice,' she admitted and she immediately wanted to unsay it. Crews raised his eyebrows and his lips curled into one of his dazzling smiles. Defensively, she crossed her arms and scowled.

'Oh, shut up.'

Luckily, that was the moment the door to their right opened and Dr. Beck let them into her office. The walls were a stark white, which annoyed Dani. Somehow, she would have liked the interior to have made an effort to set her at ease, only for it to fail miserably, but the room wasn't even trying. The therapist was wearing a dark green wrap around dress and Dani suffered an unwelcome flashback to digging up the first tarpaulin in the garden of the Greer family.

There had been four more tarpaulins. Three filled also with three bodies each and one with a single body. That made thirteen corpses in Tim Greer's backyard. Add to that the 34 human remains found at the leather factory and the bastard had killed almost fifty people. Dani hoped there wasn't another place somewhere else that they had yet to discover.

Most of the previous week and a large part of this week they had been notifying families. The bodies in the garden had been buried with their wallets and driver's licenses and wedding rings and were thus much easier to identify. So far, twelve of the thirteen victims had been identified and at least half of the victims at the other site. She had alternated with Crews in breaking the bad news, but she still felt as if she had been giving the same talk for years now.

'_I regret to inform you...'_

It was quite possibly the worst sentence you could hear in your lifetime and she was the lucky one who had to deliver it. Time and time again. And no sign of Tim Greer. They had interviewed his mother several times, but she still maintained she didn't know where her son had gone.

'Detective Reese?'

Rousing herself from her case related thoughts, Dani focused on Dr. Beck.

'Would you like to sit down?' the therapist asked again. She indicated a light brown chair. Every piece of furniture in the room was made of the same light and durable wood. The books in the bookcase were arranged according to subject. PTSD, Dani read. Violence, rape, guilt, kidnapping, she read. Dani averted her eyes and sat down.

'First, I'd like to say something. I realise that, for various reasons, therapy is not something that people like to consent to. Discussing your innermost fears and such with a stranger is not easy. However, I feel that the hostility the two of you display towards me goes deeper than my profession. Would you care to tell me why that is?'

For the first time, Dani properly regarded Dr. Beck. If Tidwell was right and she was supposed to get to know details about the kidnapping and Crews' whereabouts, perhaps Dr. Beck was as unhappy with her assignment as the two of them were. Still, Dani couldn't help but smirk when the silence endured and a slightly embarrassed blush appeared on the therapist's cheeks.

'No? Alright. I've got the identity lists you made here. Unfortunately, 'weirdo' is not a role, detective Reese,' Dr. Beck stressed as she handed their papers to them.

'I told you, Reese,' Crews told Dani and Dr. Beck frowned.

'I thought I had detected a remarkable similarity in your assessments of each other's identities, or roles, if you will. You weren't supposed to look at each other's papers; that's what this session is for,' she explained, patiently, but clearly irritated. She pushed her glasses up and picked up a sheet of paper from her desk. Over her glasses, she peered at it and put it down to be able to acquire a pen.

'Well, what is done is done, I guess. How do you feel about being a cop first and a woman last on detective Crews' list, detective Reese?'

Her pen was poised above the paper and without blinking she stared at Dani.

'Fine,' Dani answered. She was aware of crossing her arms again and saw how Dr. Beck took note of her body language, but she honestly couldn't care less. About the conclusions the fucking therapist gleaned from her defensive position or her casual answer.

'You do not feel insulted?' Dr. Beck persisted, while her pen danced across the page. Dani had learned to read upside down handwriting, but the way they were seated prevented her from seeing what the therapist was writing down. She focused on a spot of the wall behind Dr. Beck.

'No.'

The pen paused and Dr. Beck looked up at her. The woman obviously didn't understand anything about her relationship with Crews. If Crews could handle her being the daughter of Jack Reese, the man who was partly responsible for the death of his best friend and that friend's family and who had put him in jail for twelve years for a crime he hadn't committed, than why would him considering her a cop long before he considered her a woman be an issue?

In fact, Dani appreciated that until the kidnapping Crews' behaviour towards her had been entirely devoid of gender specific traits. It was as if he had only lately discovered that she was in fact a woman.

Dr. Beck went on for a while about the lists and their answers continued to be uninformative and uncooperative. She seemed to think it was strange that after being partners for a considerable time they still did not refer to each other by their first names. Dani didn't say that she liked that they called each other by their last names. It created the illusion of distance and if she couldn't have the actual distance she damn well wanted the illusion.

Another thing that worried Dr. Beck was how generic their lists were. The only personal identity on either of their lists was a past they would like to forget: ex-convict and ex-addict. From this Dr. Beck concluded that they didn't really know each other very well. At this, Dani turned towards Crews and nearly reached out to touch him.

It wasn't until Dr. Beck brought up that Crews had marked one of Dani's identities down as daughter, that she received an actual response from them.

'I see here that you have shot your father, detective Crews and that detective Reese's father is missing. Do either of you have any additional father issues to report?' the therapist asked, in an attempt at levity. Dani kept her face carefully blank, but while Dr. Beck didn't notice anything, Dani knew that Crews had noticed her stiffening besides him at the mention of her father. Dr. Beck sighed.

'Anything you want to share about your partnership? The kidnapping? Roman Nevikov? _Anything_?'

The therapist was starting to sound a little desperate. Their minimal responses and monosyllabic answers were finally beginning to get to her. She sharply inhaled and leaned back in her chair, while regarding Dani and Crews.

'Therapy is useless if you don't cooperate,' she mumbled. Crews leaned forward, his hands on his knees.

'Every lie and silence tells you something,' he said. Yeah, it tells her we don't want to be in therapy, Dani thought, but she didn't say anything. Dr. Beck lightly tapped the paper in front of her with her pen and seemed to consider his statement.

'Are you satisfied with your partnership, detective Crews?' she eventually asked. He smoothed his trousers over his knees.

'I couldn't have a better partner.'

Dani could feel him looking at her and probably smiling, so she kept her gaze trained on the wall behind Dr. Beck.

'And you, detective Reese?'

'What he said,' Dani answered. Her voice was surprisingly hoarse suddenly, which embarrassed her and she was afraid that she might be blushing. So, she compensated by glaring harder at that spot on the wall she had been watching all session.

'And you are both alright? No unresolved issues about the kidnapping that will result in innocent people being shot or threatened?'

'I'm ok,' they both answered. That was becoming a habit; simultaneous and identical answers and it was freaking Dani the hell out.

'Alright. Then we're done here. I can't help if you won't let me and if you say you are ok I have to accept that as the truth,' Dr. Beck concluded and she rounded her desk to shake their hands.

'No more therapy?' Dani hopefully asked. Dr. Beck nodded. Relieved, Dani exited the room and held the door open for Crews. He reciprocated by holding the door of the waiting room open for her. Just like that they were standing in the hallway.

'She didn't have a sofa. I was looking forward to lying on it,' Crews confided in her.

'I think we did a pretty good job of lying on chairs,' Dani joked, but Crews didn't smile. He was busy doing a million other things at once. Looking at her and looking right through her and looking straight into her heart, if that was a thing she believed, which she didn't. Trusting and appreciating and maybe even loving. It knocked the breath out of her. He caught the sleeve of her grey blazer and rolled the fabric between his fingers, still staring at her.

'Reese, did Roman say something about your father?'

Dani swallowed, watched as he let her sleeve slip from his fingers and then tried to look at him, but found she couldn't. Instead, she avoided his gaze and slowly shook her head. Not to indicate that he was wrong, but to signal she didn't want to talk about it right now. When she stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, she saw that he nodded thoughtfully and realised that he understood.

He twisted something deep inside of her. She thought of something normal to say. Something that would take them far away from Roman and her father and Crews understanding her. He beat her to it.

'I think I might know who spread the rumours. Tony from records. I asked people who had told them about you and me and Tony's name kept popping up so much that I'm fairly certain that he is the origin of the rumours,' he said. Crews was fumbling with his fingers, she noticed. He seemed almost unaware of the motion as he softly slid his thumb over the tips of his other fingers.

'You did this for me?' she asked. It was just something to say, because she knew he had. And there she went with the knowing again.

'Yes, shouldn't I have? You seemed bothered by the rumours,' he queried, concerned.

'Thank you,' she said sincerely and levelled a genuine smile at him. They made their way to R&I while Dani battled conflicting feelings. She felt like she should maybe thank that tiny toad Tony, but instead she was going to yell at him. At records, Tony nearly jumped out of his seat when she pounded on his desk.

'You spread the rumour about Crews and me dating?'

Tony shuffled his chair backwards, while looking imploringly at Crews. However, Crews was merely leaning against the wall, looking very amused. Focusing his attention on Dani, Tony got to his feet. She continued to stare him down.

'I didn't think...' he mumbled, but Dani interrupted him.

'That much was obvious,' she snapped. Awkwardly, Tony rubbed his neck and turned beet red as he explained that he might have been a bit upset that she never remembered his name, despite the fact that they had met numerous times before. Out of revenge he had made up the gossip and gone about spreading it. She nodded sceptically, while he waited for the other shoe to drop.

'If any other rumours I don't like ever reach my ears, I will remember your name,' she threatened, wisely omitting what she would have liked to add – 'and I will shoot you.' A thoroughly chastised Tony stammered out an apology and Dani gracefully accepted it, while Crews looked on dumbfounded.

'What? I can be Zen,' Dani defended her choice not to maim Tony to Crews. He shrugged as if to say he wasn't judging or saying anything about her uncharacteristic calmness. She would be damned if she was going to explain for a second time that she was ok with not being ok as long as he was around, so she settled for a miniature lecture.

'There's a time to be someone who shoots people like Tony and there's a time to be someone who forgives people like Tony. I just happen to know when to be which, Crews.'

At the end of her speech, Crews was grinning uncontrollably and she was having trouble containing a smirk of her own. Quietly, they walked to the underground parking garage of the precinct. The distant sound of the old elevator could only dimly be heard. As she reached for the car keys he apparently decided it was a good time to ask her again.

'What did Roman say about your father?'

Attempting to stay in control, she touched one of her upper molars with the tip of her tongue, as if checking for cavities. Control was slowly slipping away. She clenched her teeth and swallowed hard, steeling herself. When she felt she was fine, however fragile fine was, she turned to face him and spoke.

'Roman said my father cried before he killed him. Care to comment?'

For a moment, she thought he was going to lay one of his empty Zen phrases on her. Empty, because she caught the flash of rage in his eyes. Empty, because he didn't believe in Zen half the time either. Empty, because it would mean nothing to her right now. Not in this state. Instead, he looked straight into her eyes and said what was simultaneously the nicest and most horrible thing he had ever said.

'Perhaps Roman's death was too quick and painless.'

That threw her for a loop. She'd expected something comforting. Yet, this _was_ comforting. It was the ultimate response to her confession. There was no focus on the dubious veracity of Roman's statement: only a sharp burst of anger at the cruelty committed towards her. Anger solely on her behalf, because she doubted Crews cared about her father one way or another except as a piece in his conspiracy puzzle.

Dani stared at him. There were things she realised she needed at that moment. She needed a drink. She needed a good cry while eating ice cream, like a normal woman, but that wasn't going to happen. She couldn't even remember the last time she had cried.

There were also things she wanted. She wanted to be at the shooting range with a warn gun in her hands. She wanted to be in the ring with some random guy who thought boxing was a men's sport. She wanted to shoot something, or hit someone, because she was mad. Mad at her father, for making her hate and love him at the same time.

All these things were out of her grasp, but there was one thing that she wanted _and_ needed then and it was right in front of her: Crews.

She'd always thought that the moment she gave in to her desire for Crews would be like losing self-control. A sort of temporary insanity that would overtake her and that she couldn't fight. Snapping, succumbing. It wasn't like that. Not at all. It was a conscious choice.

Crews didn't protest as she twisted the soft fabric of his collar in her fists, scratching the tender skin of his exposed throat, and pulled him towards her. She breathed in his quintessential Crews' scent: a mixture of apples and purity. Her mouth found his and he responded eagerly. Hungrily, she deepened the kiss, letting go of his shirt and burying her fingers in his hair. The rustle of his clothes against hers was loud in the empty parking garage.

His hands slid down her arms and came to rest on her hips. His touch was alternating between light and firm as his arms slowly brushed across her back and pulled her into an embrace. The elevator doors slammed shut with a deafening clang and they leaped apart.

He glanced around and grabbed her hand. Together they walked a short distance to the nearest support pillar. Her back made contact with the cold, dull grey cement as his chest pressed against her. His lips were smooth as they grazed hers. The little moans he coaxed out of her were hushed. Behind him one of the ceiling lights flickered. On and off. He placed one hand on either side of her head as if trying to enfold her completely. In an effort to be her entire world.

Their kissing, the constant pressure of his body against hers, his heavy breathing and the closeness of this man she cared so much about drowned out everything else. She lost sight of the distracting malfunctioning bulb and ceased hearing the faint humming of the elevator.

She clutched at his back, trying to pull him closer. Crews kept pressing quick, soft kisses to her lips, while she wanted more. In one deliberate movement she grinded against him and he broke off their kiss. He brushed her hair back and leaned in again. Finally, his tongue gently parted her lips and slid inside. Every second of it, he kissed her like he meant it and she knew he did.

Roughly, she pushed him away. His eyes widened and he straightened his tie. Dark, red blotches marking his pale throat and bearing evidence of their lustful encounter disappeared under his shirt. Avoiding his curious gaze, Dani buttoned her undone blazer.

'That was inappropriate,' she managed to say, even as her fingers ached to reach out and pull him against her again.

'Unless we aren't just partners.'

'Like I said; it was inappropriate. A mistake,' she repeated and he took her hand in his. She tried to snatch it away, but he held it tight. She looked up and into his eyes.

'What would that be like? The two of us: more than partners,' he asked, his voice a whisper. It was all so very unlike her. Kissing her partner in the parking garage where anyone could spot them and suddenly they wouldn't be just a rumour anymore. Getting caught holding hands would be even more incriminating. Kissing was one thing; holding hands was quite another. More intimate, somehow.

'It would be...different and you know it will,' she reluctantly answered. Would. Not will. _Would_. Dani scrunched up her face and raked her tongue across her upper teeth. It was a small step, but it was really all she could afford to do at the moment.

'My mother wants me to tell you you're invited to Sunday dinner at her house.'

'I would be honoured,' he said and gently he released her hand.

'You should be. It's usually strictly a family affair.'

After a healthy discussion about his utter inability to buy a new car and eventually dropping him off at his house, Dani caught herself thinking about dating Charlie. It would indeed be different. Very different and they both knew it. Not meaningless or harmless at all. Well, at least he made loving fun. Would. He _would_ make loving fun. Damn.


	9. I don't want to know

**Chapter 9: I don't want to know **

Dani had decided that her problems with Crews had nothing to do with the l-word. The trouble with Crews was sex and, another l-word, lust. Specifically, the problem was sexual tension. This obviously wasn't true, but that didn't mean that she couldn't _pretend_ that it was.

So, Crews was an attractive guy and she was attracted to him. That was what it was. All that had been going on between them was simply due to the inability of men and women to form platonic relationships. The sensible thing to do would be to clear the air between them and get rid of all these pesky feelings by having sex with him. That would be the end of it.

It would be great too if the sex was bad, because then there'd be no danger of it ever happening again. Realising her new resolve completely contradicted her earlier realisation that sex with Crews was out of the question because it would mean something; she promptly forgot her earlier assessment of the situation. It was doublethink at its finest.

Her dilemma made Dani think about Mrs. Greer, who now knew her son was a serial killer, but refused to fully comprehend what a monster he was. Dani was convinced that if she could somehow be made to understand, she would reveal her son's whereabouts. As of now, they were still getting nowhere with her.

(***)

Friday.

Sunday night was rapidly approaching. From the moment Dani had invited him, Crews hadn't stopped pestering her about the dinner.

What he should wear, whether he should bring something, how many people would be there, any conversation topics he needed to avoid? The questions kept coming and as the dreaded day grew closer she got more and more annoyed.

Yes, she was going to sleep with him, but she didn't feel comfortable talking to him in an informal non-work setting. Her family's presence would only exacerbate the situation. She wasn't good at small talk to begin with and even less so when under pressure. And the pressure was piling on, though, curiously, Crews didn't seem nervous about the dinner at all. He was actually looking forward to it.

Dani chewed on her bottom lip and glanced at him. He was organising the drawers of his desk, humming softly. His jacket was draped over his chair. The front of his white shirt was splattered with mango juice or something. Her gaze kept wandering to the top button that wasn't buttoned and the small triangle of bare skin it revealed. She kept flashing back to how she'd practically clawed at that area when they kissed. Chewing too hard, she bit down on her lip and had to muffle an expletive when she tasted blood.

Stupid, she admonished herself. Not on the same level of stupidity as getting her hair stuck in the car door, but not far removed from it either. His long legs were balancing on the edge of her desk and she wanted to kick them off, but she couldn't deny that she was enjoying the view. Of course, if anyone asked, she _would_ deny it.

In the midst of her examination of Crews, the object of her intense scrutiny looked up. He smiled dopily at her, as if there was something to be happy about when there really wasn't, before continuing to shuffle papers and pens around. As she exhaled, Dani became aware that she was tense as hell. Her neck was starting to hurt and even her hands had almost formed into fists.

She realised she was coiled; ready to attack. Like a panther she was prepared to pounce on her prey. The thought of Crews as prey was disturbing.

Frustrated, she shook her head and attempted to loosen up. After another couple of fun-filled minutes of feeling her muscles tauten in direct defiance of her efforts to relax, Dani noticed that while she had been observing Crews, someone else had been observing her. Tidwell beckoned her over to his office and reluctantly she went.

He stood up when she entered and closed the door behind her.

'What is going on?' he asked.

'No progress in the case,' she responded. His face stretched into a grimace.

'You know that's not what I mean,' he indulgently said. He allowed his gaze to rest briefly on Crews, who, oblivious as ever, had strolled over to the water cooler. Dani leaned back against the wall and kept stoically silent. It was none of his business.

Tidwell retreated to behind his desk and stared out of the window for a while.

'We didn't do it right and I think that's partly why it went wrong,' he eventually declared. Seeing her confused expression upon turning around, he hastily explained.

'You and me. Maybe if we'd followed proper procedure...'

An uncomfortable silence ensued wherein Dani was uncertain whether he expected her to object or agree, so she did neither. Tidwell looked at her and sighed. He handed her a form from his desk. Its title proclaimed it to be a **Dating ****and ****Relationship ****Agreement ****and ****Acknowledgement ****of ****Harassment-Free ****Workplace ****Policy**.

'I'm not dating Crews,' she tersely replied and belatedly she realised that Tidwell hadn't mentioned who she was supposedly dating. Damn. He smiled and his smile was one of painful understanding.

'You outrank him, but you're not his boss, so you'll remain partners as long as you disclose the relationship and both sign the form,' he continued. Dumbfounded, she held the form. If she ever decided to date Crews, she wouldn't have to give him up as a partner. This knowledge ignited a secret burst of happiness inside her, which she ignored. Instead, she tried to hand the form back to Tidwell. He waved it away. His gesture seemed to indicate it was only a matter of time before she would use it.

'Keep it,' he insisted and, when he saw she was about to protest, added, 'I'm not an excuse, Dani. If you want to be with him; go right ahead. I don't want to stand between you and love.'

Chagrined, she thrust the paper into her pocket and approached him.

'Don't worry, you're only standing between me and the door,' Dani snapped, naturally only to find when he opened it that Crews was behind it, waiting for her. Groaning inwardly, she brushed none too gently past her partner, which Crews took in stride. The universe must be feeling particularly insecure today, she thought.

(***)

Saturday.

It was nine a.m. when the sound of a call jolted Dani awake. Paying no heed to her awoken distemper, the phone continued to ring. It was such a rare occurrence for her to be called on a weekend off that for a moment Dani was unable to feel anything but confusion. She quickly realised how pathetic her bewilderment was and answered the phone.

'Crews?'

'Hi Reese. I was wondering whether you'd perhaps like to accompany me on my quest for a new car?' he asked. If she were him, she would have thrown in a dig about how it was the least she could do, since she was the one who was always complaining about his lack of transportation. Of course, Crews was nice and said no such thing.

'Sure.'

'Can you come and pick me up?'

'I'll be there in fifteen.'

A bit dazed, Dani ended the call. Purchasing cars; that wasn't something partners did together. It was a couples' thing. Also, she hadn't looked at the name and number on the display, but she had known that it was Crews. Cursing, she fell out of bed.

Upon arriving at his house, she noticed like a good detective that Rachel's car wasn't in the driveway. Perhaps that was why he was roping her into his hunt for a car; perhaps he was feeling more lonely than usual in Rachel and Ted's continued absence. Kind of like the way her own apartment felt empty now that Tidwell had left, even though she hadn't felt comfortable with him there either.

Soon after they had set off it became clear that Crews had no plan. His idea of a plan was to drive around until they spotted a dealership. Then they would stop and look around for a while. They did just that.

They looked at Bentleys, Lamborghinis, Aston Martins, – Dani had hoped that James Bond's car of choice might appeal to him: nope – Buicks and GMCs. After an hour of looking closely at one ugly Cadillac, Crews decided that it wasn't the right car for him either.

Around lunchtime they grabbed a sandwich and a couple of bottles of water and continued. As time passed, Dani began to notice certain things. For example, she did not feel on edge. No clenching muscles, no sore neck. Here they were in an informal, non-work setting, both dressed in casual wear, Crews at his most irritating and she was fine.

She didn't feel the need to punch him or shoot him or leave him at the side of the road. One time he had walked around the hood of the car in the middle of nowhere after taking a leak and she hadn't even had to suppress the urge to run him over and ditch his body somewhere.

This was a breakthrough. Around four she began to feel tired. Since she was the one driving, she was also the one whose eyes kept getting the worst of the sun's glare reflecting off the surface of the roads. She had been forced to borrow Crews' sunglasses because not a single pair could be found in her car. Crews said she should keep them, because they looked better on her.

Their last stop was a Chevrolet dealership. She pulled over and willed herself to expect nothing. As Crews chatted up the salesman, she wandered around the showroom. There was a conspicuous, red Corvette and a smattering of drab family cars. Convinced that Crews would find nothing of interest, she muttered a vague farewell to the receptionist and went outside. Out front, the sun was already turning her hastily parked car into an oven, so she got behind the wheel and moved it to the shadow at the left side of the building.

Crews might take another hour, she thought. She strolled to the other side of the building and discovered a car. The car was shaded by the trees. It was beautiful. Dani was not in the habit of having strong feelings about cars, but this one was really nice. Sleek and smooth. She ran her fingertips along the headlight of the car appreciatively. She was definitely tired.

As she turned, she caught Crews staring at her.

'I'll take this one,' he told the befuddled salesman. 'This one' turned out to be a 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Berlinetta belonging to the salesman. What followed was a long line of protests, during which Dani surmised that the car wasn't for sale. The louder the salesman insisted that he really couldn't be persuaded to sell the car, the higher Crews bids grew, until the salesman relented.

Inside they drew up the papers, while Dani waited with the receptionist. Another heated scene occurred when Crews wanted to take the car with him right then. Over the salesman's objections, he asked Dani what her mother's address was. Finally understanding that the entire day had been Crews' way of making sure he would not be the weirdo without a car to her family, – which was pointless as far as she was concerned, since he would always be the weirdo, only now with a car – instead of blowing up at him over a wasted day, she took his arm.

'You don't need it; I'll drive you there.'

As Crews smiled crookedly at her and she easily returned his smile, she considered that the day had not been wasted at all. She'd had fun. She had concluded her trial run and proven that this worked away from homicide cases. _They_ worked. It wasn't until she was safely ensconced at home, that she recognised the magnitude of her successful experiment.

They _worked_.

(***)

Sunday.

Somehow the relaxed manner in which they had whiled away the hours together on Saturday made Dani not less, but more anxious about the upcoming dinner. Since the LAPD shooting range was closed on Sundays, she decided to go to the public shooting range. She preferred the LAPD range, so though she was a member of the LA Gun Club; she hardly went there.

She spend the day there, rebuking advances from gun toting idiots, which was part of the reason she didn't like to go there. While she unloaded her gun, she told herself that nothing was going to happen at dinner. You'll eat; it'll be fine, Dani thought.

Despite her strict instructions to the contrary, Crews was waiting outside with flowers when she came to pick him up. He offered her one and she looked at it as if she had no idea what to do with it before putting it on the dashboard. During the drive over to her mother, he asked her opinion about his clothes. She dismissively said he looked good. He did. A dark blue suit, a crisp white shirt underneath; you couldn't go wrong with that. He smelled nice too.

Dani tried to refrain from drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, because she didn't want him to know how wound up she was, but she knew that he knew anyway. A drink right about now would be great, she thought.

In what she suspected was an attempt to calm her, Crews complimented her appearance. Dani mumbled 'thanks.' She had carelessly thrown something on because she hadn't wanted to spend too much time focusing on what she would wear; afraid of what that might mean.

Her mother was delighted when Crews presented the bouquet to her.

'This is Crews. Crews, this is my mother.'

Unsatisfied with Dani's lukewarm introduction, her mother vigorously shook Crews' hand, giving her first name and urging Crews to call her Haleh. In response, he told her she could call him Charlie. While Dani stood by almost disinterested, her mother went around introducing Crews to her uncles and aunts and cousins and the bastards immediately took to him. Why did he have to pick this one day to appear normal?

To Dani's distress, her mother placed Crews opposite Dani at the head of the table. In her father's chair. The irony was mindboggling. Regardless of her numerous misgivings about the event and the fact that she was a bundle of nerves, dinner was pleasant.

They chatted easily. Crews did everything he possibly could to set Dani at ease. He didn't stare at her. He didn't call her Dani. Nothing in his behaviour towards her could be interpreted as unprofessional. If Dani hadn't known any better she would think that they were only partners.

Nonetheless, throughout the meal Haleh kept eyeing them with an expression on her face that Dani knew all too well. It was the same expression that appeared on her mother's face when only one more word was needed to finish a crossword puzzle. There was a muted concentration that meant she hadn't figured it out yet, but that she was close to the solution.

After dinner, - and after her mother had refused Crews' offer to help clear the table - Dani and Haleh went into the kitchen. From the doorway, Dani watched as Crews played with her nephews and nieces. Her mother followed her gaze.

'The way you look at him; it makes me wonder,' Haleh remarked, blissfully omitting what exactly it made her wonder about, though Dani could guess. She _knew_. There was enough knowing going around for a lifetime. If only Dani could un-know all the things she knew.

'I like Charlie. He's wonderful and he obviously likes you as a partner,' her mother brightly continued. Sneaking another peek at Crews, Dani sighed and entered the living room.

'We have to go. Crews, come on,' she urged. They bid their goodbyes to everyone. Dani averted her eyes as her mother suddenly decided to thank Crews profusely for his part in getting her out of Roman's clutches.

On the way home, they were both silent. Several times she opened her mouth to say something, though she didn't quite know what she would have said, because the obscure thoughts never survived the journey from her mind to her lips.

'Do you want to come inside?' he asked. She nodded, grateful for the suggestion. The dog barked once when they came in, but soon went back to sleep on a large couch cushion it had apparently dragged to the foot of the stairs. As Dani looked around the quiet house, Crews closed the door behind them.

'No floozies tonight?' she quipped.

'No floozies. Not since...'

'My mother likes you,' Dani said, cutting off his serious reply just in time.

'I like her too, though I like her daughter more,' Crews asserted. Every time she thought she had stopped him from saying something too affectionate he managed to slip something else in.

'You shouldn't say that,' she protested.

'What do you mean?'

Dani looked at the floor. She looked at the dog. She looked at the stairs. Finally, she looked at him. His hand was still on the door handle, as if he was making sure she wouldn't escape, which was as far from the truth as she could imagine. A word from her and he'd open the door and she'd be gone. She took a deep breath.

'You shouldn't say things like that, because just standing there you're turning me on,' Dani explained. Crews didn't seem to understand what she meant. Flirting wasn't difficult and Dani had always been a natural at it until now. The one time it wasn't a line it came out awkward instead of confident.

'But I'm not doing anything, am I?'

There was something undeniably arousing about the way he inspected his clothes for something different or special. When he was done with his visual examination and looked at her, she was already halfway up the stairs.

'No. You're just being you,' she answered, truthfully again.

Crews looked happy, which was a good look on him. But honestly, he could have tried one of his annoying at-peace-with-the-world looks right then and it wouldn't have mattered. He could have not showered or shaved for weeks. He could have been absolutely disgusting in every single way and she'd still want him.

Whatever it was between them: it didn't depend on physical attraction. And short of announcing that he wanted to marry her and have 2.5 kids, there was nothing he could do to make her not want him.

'Come,' she coaxed and he followed her upstairs. So, maybe it was supposed to be like this. Easy; because he knew her so well. Difficult; because she was in deeper than she'd ever been. To know that she wanted him was... scary. Wanting made room for disappointment and heartbreak.

In his bedroom, she faced him as he switched on the light.

'Kiss me, Charlie.'

'Sure thing, Dani,' he mumbled. His voice was husky. As he bridged the distance between them, she tried to remember his voice ever sounding like that before, but she couldn't. It sent a shiver down her spine. Charlie cupped her face and brushed stray hairs behind her ears and he did it in that gentle, slow, maddening way of his. His sense of purpose and compulsion to execute everything perfectly were back.

They didn't say anything as they undressed, but his body was very clear. He knew what he was doing. Every stupid touch. Every stupid kiss. He meant everything.

On her back she inched towards the headboard as he leaned over her. Now it should have been awkward, because she had not seen him like this or allowed him to see her like this. It was anything but. He dipped down and kissed her. Her response was to roll them over, so that she could be on top. His chest was pale. He hadn't been kidding about not tanning.

Dani stroked his arms, their lean muscles, and relished the feeling of being in charge. She realised it was a fantasy, though. Charlie silently looked up at her and he didn't have this under control either. It had gotten away from them. Her sole consolation was that this thing was not going to end with her being hurt. Oh, he could hurt her. He could most definitely hurt her, if he wanted to, but she knew he'd never want to.

They kissed and her enthusiasm matched his intensity. With her last shred of sanity, she resolved to locate her old walkman as soon as possible and listen to the tape he had given her. With a roughness that excited her, he pulled her closer and they made love.

As she lay in his arms afterward and heard his breathing slow down, she started to panic. She remained still until she was convinced that he was asleep. Carefully, she lifted the arm that was draped over her shoulder, slipped out from underneath it and put it back down. She dressed fast and without making a noise. The dog was chasing rabbits in its sleep. Or coyotes; because she heard them howling in the backyard.

What the hell was she doing? This wasn't a one night stand. This wasn't some guy whose name she didn't know. This wasn't just sex.

'I'm an idiot,' she whispered. Feeling ridiculous, she returned upstairs, undressed and crawled back into bed with Crews. Without him holding her, she felt cold and she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever she did was stupid. Staying was a mistake, but leaving would be wrong too.

'I'm glad you've decided to come back.'

His voice startled her, since she had assumed he was asleep. She stiffened, but relaxed as he wrapped his arms around her. Maybe her refusal to accept what she knew about them didn't matter in the end. What was it that he had once said? _You __don__'__t __need __to __understand __here __to __be __here. _Well, maybe she didn't need to understand this to be with him.


	10. Oh daddy

**Chapter 10: Oh daddy **

Sunlight flooded the bed and Dani opened her eyes. There was no disorientating moment where she didn't remember what had happened or where she was; she knew the man next to her was Charlie. She knew what had happened the night before and she didn't regret it. Perhaps that would come later.

She realised that, in her mind, she had started to call him Charlie. Sex did that. If you intended to stick around afterwards, it put you on a first name basis. Ready or not.

They hadn't bothered to close the curtains yesterday and now Charlie was awash in light. His body was warm, including the arm still slung over her shoulder. She eased out from underneath it, but the movement woke him. He stretched and yawned. Then he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

'Still here,' he observed, stroking her hand.

'Yeah.'

'And who am I today to you? Charlie or Crews?' he asked her. The bright light faded his red eyelashes to blond and, as he tilted his head a certain way awaiting her answer, sometimes they appeared to be translucent. In spite of herself, she opted for the safer choice.

'Crews,' Dani said. He nodded and his gaze followed her when she started to dress. I need to go home and change before going in to work, she thought. Quickly, she buttoned her jacket. Her clothes were wrinkled from spending a night on the floor of the bedroom and Tidwell would be sure to notice this. As she turned around she caught a glimpse of Charlie's naked back before he put on his bathrobe. It was lean and muscular, like the rest of him.

He caught her looking and grinned. To hide her own amusement, she turned away briefly. Meanwhile, he unearthed her watch from under the bed and handed it to her. On his bare feet, he walked into the hallway. From downstairs, they heard the dog's growl and they instinctively reached for their service weapons. Both hands came up empty. They smiled wryly at each other and Charlie retreated to the bedroom. With a gun, he led the way to the stairs.

'I'm thinking about naming the dog George,' he whispered as they tiptoed down. Dani felt vulnerable without a gun. In an effort to distract herself from the fact that Charlie was now effectively protecting her, she went with the inane topic.

'It's a he?'

'I don't know. He's curious, though,' Charlie admitted, quietly. The low and deep rumble in the dog's throat intensified, but Dani wasn't afraid. She wasn't going to die in the midst of a conversation about the sex of Charlie's dog. The animal's ears and fur on its back were up and he or she was staring rigidly in the direction of the kitchen. Dani noticed movement there and she signalled to Charlie. As she inched nearer, stooped – smaller target – Charlie suddenly righted himself and strode into the kitchen.

'Do you want to get shot? It really seems to me that you want to get shot,' he addressed the stranger. With an exasperated expression on his face, Charlie slipped the gun into a kitchen drawer. The man was standing with his back to them, studying the postcards on the fridge. Dani relaxed when the man faced them and she recognised Charlie's father. His gaze slid over her, taking in her rumpled apparel. He raised an eyebrow, glanced at Charlie, at her again and finally his eyes came to rest on his son permanently. One of the postcards was in his hand and he waved it around emphatically.

'Olivia sent me a postcard. 'Bumped into Ted.' I'm thinking; Ted? Which Ted? I don't know any Ted. Until I remember that criminal who lives with you. What the hell is your Ted doing in Spain with Olivia?' Charlie's father yelled. Belatedly, Dani realised that the postcard he was waving in Charlie's face wasn't one of Ted's.

'Ted loves her. He told you, remember?' Charlie serenely answered. This seemed to send Crews Sr. over the edge and, as if on cue, Ted and a red haired woman hesitantly entered the kitchen. They were holding hands. Crews Sr. lunged at Ted, but before Charlie could intervene, the woman stepped in between them.

'Leave Ted alone,' she warned. Her voice was warm, but stern. Her body language was determined. This must be Olivia, Dani thought. She understood why Ted liked her; she was very beautiful. Voluptuous. But she also looked kind. Charlie's father glared at Ted, while Ted blinked owlishly and Olivia smiled sweetly at everyone.

Despite the fact that this scene afforded Dani an intriguing insider's look into Charlie's life, she was also feeling incredibly uncomfortable as she was herself subjected to the newcomers' attention. Considering her dishevelled clothing and the early hour, it must be obvious to everyone present what was going on.

'You have to get home?' Charlie asked. Recognising the lifeline he was throwing her, she nodded and retreated out of the kitchen. Charlie escorted her to the front door, ignoring the accusations that started up in their wake.

'We'll pick up your car after work, alright?' she suggested.

'Alright. See you in an hour?'

'Yeah, see you,' she mumbled. Like a couple of teenagers after their first date, they lingered on the doorstep until Charlie kissed her. She frowned. She wasn't quite sure why she was frowning. Maybe because she remembered when she had suspected Seever of sleeping with Charlie and performing the walk of shame and now she had ended up in a reality where that was her. Dani Reese was doing the walk of shame.

Or maybe she was frowning because it wasn't the walk of shame. Judging by the kiss, it wasn't. From one night stand territory they had somehow wandered into relationship land.

Or maybe, just maybe, she was frowning because she didn't mind the kiss and its associations.

(***)

When she came to pick him up, Charlie was vigorously trying to impress the new name upon the dog. Crouched on the driveway, he was tickling the dog's belly and talking to it.

'You're George. Yes, you're George. I'm Charlie and that is Dani and you are George. Even if you're a girl, George is still a good name, right?'

Smiling despite herself – dogs; any animal really, weren't her kind of thing – she approached them just as Charlie got up. He looked pensive. There was a faraway sort of look in his eyes.

'Do you believe in fate?' he asked. Before she could begin to formulate an answer to that doozie, he turned towards her and continued in a philosophical tone.

'Do you ever think that everything that happened happened for a reason?'

No, she didn't think that. God, fate; whatever. Life was a series of choices and accidents. There was no reason. The best you could hope to find was blame. The most interesting thing she thought, as Charlie gazed at her meaningfully, was how he had phrased the question. Not 'happens' but 'happened' as in 'has already taken place.' That in combination with his stupid insinuating gaze implied something that almost took her breath away.

'Everything...' she mumbled. It came fast and felt familiar. Anger.

'Is that so?' she snapped. Charlie reached out to touch her, but she slapped his hand away. She didn't even care that the volume of her voice was increasing. It felt so good to lose control.

'Was everything part of goddamn destiny? Rachel's family murdered, you in jail, me an addict: all so that we could fuck?'

'Dani...'

'Reese,' she bit at him. 'And don't you _ever_ say that again. I'm not your reward for twelve years of wrongful imprisonment. I'm not.'

She was shaking with rage. Her father's daughter all the way through. If she couldn't drink her feelings away, the only emotion she wanted to feel was anger. It suited her. It always had. Calmly, Charlie waited until he was sure she was finished.

'That's not what I meant,' he simply said. She glanced at him. At his inquisitive face, his relaxed posture and everything boiling underneath. Perhaps they were more alike than she had thought and he was just better at hiding the darkness within. Or not hiding exactly; restraining.

'I know,' she admitted, brusquely. Ashamed, she avoided eye contact. He voiced no recriminations on the way to the car. No apologies were issued either. She had purposely misunderstood him and he knew it. It seemed as if he had even expected an outburst of some kind and now that it was over, it was truly over. They didn't need to talk it out.

George dawdled on the driveway and eventually seemed to make his way to the back of the house. Dani buckled her seatbelt and the clicking sound it made coincided with something in her memory sliding into place.

'Do you remember that throwaway comment from Mrs. Greer about George?' she asked.

'Yes. He was supposed to redo the garden, but he didn't. Why didn't George redo the garden?' Charlie mused. As she regarded him, there was nothing there to indicate the change in their relationship. No stolen glances, no secret smiles, no furtive touches. They were altogether Crews and Reese: partners. But she knew they were also Charlie and Dani, with all the things that entailed.

'I have an idea. I think I might know who George is and where he is now,' she admitted as she put the car into gear.

'And why he didn't redo the garden?'

'_And_ why he didn't redo the garden. Let's swing by evidence and pay Mrs. Greer a visit.'

(***)

The ring was dull. It was in need of some polishing. Gently, Dani shook it out of the evidence bag. A bit of dirt still clung to the inside. With her nail, she dislodged it. She held the ring up to the lamp and allowed Charlie to read the inscription.

'George and Margaret. Always,' he recited. There was no date. She was glad it was something as plain as 'always.' Of course, it had never going to be forever, but it had turned out to be a lot shorter than either of them must have imagined. She wondered what her mother had engraved in her wedding ring. Swiftly, she recognised her mood for what it was – overly sentimental – and kicked back into work mode.

'Do you think she will tell us where her son is if we show her this?' she asked Charlie, suddenly wanting her intuition confirmed. This was it. Their leverage. The straw that broke the camel's back. The thing that would make Mrs. Greer disclose her son's location. Charlie nodded.

They informed Tidwell about what they had. The last body from the back yard was now, almost certainly, also identified. Fifteen minutes later, Tidwell was following them as they drove over to the Greer residence. Dani knocked.

After about a minute, Mrs. Greer opened the door and invited them in. She looked a lot better than the last time they had seen her. It was as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. When Dani showed her the wedding ring, however, her face crumpled. Tentatively, she made her way to a big arm chair and sat down.

'Do you recognise this ring, Mrs. Greer?' Charlie asked. Though she was trembling, she fixed a steady gaze on him.

'Please do call me Meg, dear. That's George's ring. My husband.'

A painful silence followed wherein Dani thought they were going to have to explain how they had come to possess the ring, but then Mrs. Greer broke down and started to sob. Charlie handed her a handkerchief and she composed herself fairly quickly.

'It was the cats, you see,' Mrs. Greer said. Uncomprehending, Tidwell stared at her. Dani exchanged a glance with her partner. 1973: the year of the murdered cats. When Mrs. Greer saw that they were waiting for further clarification, she continued.

'Tim swore he had nothing to do with the cats, but George didn't believe him. He was very angry. He was angry with me too for defending Tim. That's why I thought he left us.'

After a moment, she added, thoughtfully, 'But maybe I knew. Yes, I think I have known it the whole time.'

Apologetic, she looked at them.

'It was just too horrible to believe, you understand? I didn't dare confront the possibility that my son had...'

In the trunk of the car were bulletproof vests and assault rifles. Tidwell had the SWAT team on speed dial. It turned out they didn't need them. Very calmly, Mrs. Greer explained that she had been diagnosed with leukaemia. Before Tim had left, she had baked him a chocolate cake to take with him. She confessed that it had been chockfull of her medicine: arsenic trioxide. Tidwell stayed with Mrs. Greer, while they verified her claim.

Tim's hiding place was a seedy motel. Half the neon letters making up its name were missing; the other half were hanging askew or flickering half heartedly. No wonder there were still plenty of rooms available. They donned their vests and took the rifles. Procedure demanded precautions. The manager eagerly pointed them towards room 23. Dani knocked, Charlie unlocked the door when there was no answer.

The stench that wafted out to meet them was unmistakable. Death. And not a nice death either. Mingled with the sickening sweetness of decomposition were the sharp smells of every possible bodily fluid. After a short glance at the body on the bed, Dani's gag reflex forced her outside into the warm, but clean air. Stoically, Charlie followed her. He placed the call to the coroner's office as she sucked fresh air into her lungs to dispel the offending odour.

The manager tried to peek into the room, so she quickly closed the door.

'You didn't smell that?' she asked him. Feigning innocence, which was a difficult task with a face like his, the manager said the room's occupant had paid for a month in advance. Regular cleaning was apparently not included in the price of the room. The state of the motel suggested that cleaning wasn't a part of the services on offer at all. The adjoining rooms were empty, so there was no one to complain about the smell.

While Charlie finished the call with the coroner, she called Tidwell. He seemed reluctant to arrest Mrs. Greer, but eventually agreed that he had to. After all, the woman had confessed to murder. The stink of the corpse clung to Dani's clothes, skin and hair. She could feel it on her, like a disgusting organism, working its way into her pores. As the partners put away their cells, their eyes met. Charlie didn't smell so good either.

'Not so attractive now, huh?' he remarked, with a lopsided smile. A laugh welled up within her chest and she leaned against the wall, succumbing to it. Considering the circumstances, the manager's outrage at her roaring laughter was probably justified, but she ignored him nonetheless.

(***)

It was Saturday and Dani was only now finding the time to run this particular errand. She had been meaning to do it all week, but somehow she had kept finding other things to do. In all likelihood, she had been postponing it on purpose. It was long overdue. The back door was locked and she remembered that her mother was babysitting, like Haleh nowadays usually did on Saturdays.

Slightly irritated, she fished in the flower pot hanging against the window and found what she was looking for. She let herself in with the shoddily hidden key. Out of habit, she checked her father's study. The hair was still in place. Then she went upstairs. She stopped outside her old bedroom, but didn't go in. Instead, she lowered the ladder from the attic and penetrated the dusty darkness.

The light bulb unwillingly sparked to life. Tiny particles floated in its swinging beam, swirling lazily as she moved around. It was hot in the cramped space. She shuffled aside a lamp to get to the back. A carton, smaller than she had imagined, had her name scribbled on the side. As she opened it, the layer of powdery dust that coated its flaps got into her nose and she sneezed. One enlarged photo from her police academy graduation ceremony covered others. She put the shoe box with pictures to her left.

Her baseball bat. A year book, which she resisted flipping through. Kid fingerprint kit. High school report cards. Finally, she located what she was looking for and her hand closed around her old walkman. Under the narrow roof the heat was oppressive and with every breath she was inhaling thick dust. Feeling increasingly stifled, she began to put everything except the walkman back into the carton.

The noise downstairs halted her movements. It sounded like a curse. A man's voice. Inside the house. In lieu of her gun, which she didn't have with her – because who the hell takes a gun to their mother's home? – she grabbed the baseball bat. Its weight felt familiar in her hand. She stuffed the walkman into the big pocket of her jacket.

Slowly, she descended the ladder. She briefly considered calling out. It might scare off the intruder. If it didn't scare him off, it would merely alert him to her presence and the element of surprise would be gone. Dani settled on silence. Danger would not dissipate as quickly as it had with the break in at Charlie's house earlier that week, she was sure of that.

She discovered she still knew the house intimately. The steps to avoid because they creaked. The carpet that muffled the sound of your footsteps. Quietly, she made her way downstairs. The door of the study was open and she couldn't remember whether she had left it that way. A man was sitting in the chair facing the desk. The contents of the bottom drawer were scattered on the desk and he was listlessly rifling through them.

'Dad?'

He swivelled round and trained his gun on her.

'Dani.'

Her heart raced. She could feel its pulse in her throat. Carefully, she lowered the bat.

'I gave it to Charlie,' she defiantly lied. Her father flinched. It was so unlike him that it gave her pause. He sighed and kept staring at her. The gun remained aimed at her, but his continued silence gave her strength.

'You were simply going to take it and leave her in uncertainty, weren't you?' she spit out. He regarded her with something akin to pride and it filled her with loathing. He didn't even try to formulate an answer. Her father just sat there, absorbing her undisguised hatred.

Jack Reese behaving meekly; it was enough to make her want to vomit.

'I wish Roman had killed you. I really wish he had,' Dani whispered.

It made her so fucking mad that it was a lie; that she had to say it twice to make it sound true and it still wasn't. It simply refused to be true. What she thought was disgust at her father's behaviour turned out to be disgust at her own feelings. At being unable to decide what she felt. Was she glad that he was alive or disappointed? Shit, she didn't know. A little bit of both.

She wished Charlie was there, which made her feel worse. WWCD: What would Charlie do? The really grotesque thing was that Charlie would know what she was doing and would probably not do what she wanted him to do, which was make the decision for her. As she moved, the walkman bumped against her stomach. A hissing breath escaped her as she chose.

'Go,' she ordered. Her father was the one holding the gun, but she was the one calling the shots. He got to his feet and approached her. Unable to endure his proximity, she stepped aside. Standing before her, he hesitated. Dani felt that he was about to say something to try to justify his actions, to try to explain and she didn't want to hear it.

'Whatever it is, I'm not interested. Go,' she repeated, forcefully. To her relief, he complied.

Trembling all over, she steadied herself against the desk and listened to the front door opening and closing. The key being turned in the lock. Gradually, the shaking subsided and she threw everything back into the drawer without bothering to lock it. Upstairs, she switched off the light and secured the attic ladder unto the ceiling. After locking the back door, she deposited the key into the flower pot and drove home.

(***)

Back in her apartment, she took a lemonade glass out of the cupboard and filled it to the brim with vodka. The smell of alcohol almost made her sick. It occurred to her that her father might not believe that she had given the notebook to Charlie, so she took her gun and put it on the kitchen counter next to the drink she had prepared. After that, she dug up the notebook from the back of her closet. That she also placed on the counter. Lastly, she extricated the walkman from her pocket and used it to bookend the row of objects.

The legs of the chair scraped across the floor as she dragged it closer to the counter and sat down.

Bottle, glass, gun, notebook and walkman stood there, mocking her, tempting her. All she needed was Charlie's tape and Tidwell's bullshit harassment form and the tableau would be complete.

'Stop giving me choices,' she said to no one in particular. The universe perhaps, since it was definitely making fun of her.

(***)

When Charlie arrived, the bottle was half empty. Or half full, depending on what kind of person you are, she guessed. After knocking, he let himself in when she didn't answer. He took in the scene, but didn't say anything. As if there was nothing unusual or alarming about finding a recovering alcoholic with a freshly poured glass of vodka in front of her, he brought over a chair and sat down at the counter.

'What is wrong?'

Dani squinted at her drink. The clear liquid managed to be enticing and revolting at the same time.

'It's deciding. I wish I wouldn't have to choose,' she said.

'Life is a series of choices,' Charlie stated. His tone was unconcerned; breezy. Always so calm. So good at keeping everything under wraps. Why couldn't she be like that? Who cared if he was angry too as long as he projected that meticulously constructed serenity unto the world? Weary, she sighed.

'Then I wish I could decide not to care when I do the wrong thing.'

'There is no wrong. Whatever you do is right.'

'That's bullshit,' she protested and he smiled mischievously.

'Maybe,' he admitted, 'What is the choice?'

'To drink or not to drink,' she deadpanned, gesturing towards the glass. Again he smiled. It was one of his phantom smiles. Barely there to begin with and when it was gone you were left thinking that it might just have been your imagination. It might not have been there at all.

'No, that's not it. That one's easy in a way. What's the other one? Does it have something to do with your father?' he probed. In response, she raked the nails of her left hand through her hair. The urge to bring her fingertips to her temples and push her worries away was overwhelming.

'Don't do that. Don't read my mind. I hate it when you do that.'

What got to her was that Jack Reese would never, not in a million years, have occurred to Kevin. No one except Charlie knew that a lot of her issues stemmed from having Jack Reese for a father. Daddy issues; it was as simple and clichéd as that. At the root of almost everything that was wrong with Dani Reese was her father. Leave it to Charlie to dig until he got there.

'You ask me a question, but it's really an answer,' she murmured. Not afraid of a silence, he used the time to examine the strange collection of items. She watched his face closely and the only thing that seemed to puzzle him was the notebook. With an abrupt gesture, she picked it up and slid it into his suit pocket.

'You were right: people are a lot of things. Jack Reese is a thief and a liar and a coward. The problem is that to me he is only one thing: my father,' she said. It was at best an attempt to rationalise her decision, because it didn't even begin to define her conflicted feelings.

'I'm sorry.'

He sounded serious. As she looked at him, she realised he _was_ serious. What did he have to be sorry about? Telling her what she had known all along; that her father wasn't a good man?

'Someone spotted him. I wanted to be the one to tell you, but I wasn't fast enough,' he explained. They nodded. Dani felt she should tell Charlie about the decision to let her father go, but she didn't understand herself.

'I thought about arresting him, but he had a gun and I had a baseball bat. It's doubtful whether I could have pulled it off,' she mumbled. To her surprise, that elicited a chuckle from him. His smile was a pleasure to behold. It brightened her mood. Whereas before she had been sitting hunched over the counter, she now straightened her shoulders.

'And you thought I was weird,' he joked.

'I still think you're weird.'

Sliding his chair back, he got to his feet. Without asking her anything, he started to open and close cabinets until he found a glass. He filled it with vodka.

'A toast?' he proposed. They clinked. Waiting to see what she would do, Charlie held his glass aloft. She contemplated what might as well have been water as far as she knew and simultaneously they emptied their glasses into the sink. Satisfied, he nodded as if that was what he had expected.

'To relatively easy choices.'


	11. Gold dust woman

**Chapter 11: Gold dust woman**

When Dani kissed Charlie after the toast, she vaguely regretted not being able to taste vodka on his lips. Instead, she had to settle for the taste of oranges. Her disappointment vanished as he wrapped his arms around her. There was something in him that changed whenever they touched. As if he was really himself during the contact. She felt it within herself too.

As they kissed hungrily, they made their way to the bedroom. He hit his head against the doorframe, which made her laugh. While he rubbed his head, he frowned at her amusement, so she quickly kissed him.

The vulnerable area between his neck and shoulder was slick with sweat. Dani licked the exposed vein, savouring the prickling sensation of salt on her tongue. Impatiently, Charlie pulled her shirt up. For a moment, she was suspended within the warm, white confines of her shirt, until he pulled it over her head. A smile played on his lips and when he kissed her it was as if he transferred the smile to her face.

Sexually transmitted happiness, she thought. A moan escaped her when she realised the stupidity of that thought. Charlie interpreted it as desire and well, she had that in spades too. She pushed him down on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt. Just above his hipbone, Dani kissed him. The skin flushed slightly at the touch of her lips. She traced the curve with her tongue, sucked at it and even sank her teeth gently into his skin.

From between his ridiculously light eye lashes, he watched her movements. Dani raised herself on her elbows and looked at him. The faint curve above his hip was pink. She leaned in and breathed on the spot. His response was to groan. Smirking, she pursed her lips and softly blew air onto the raw skin.

As she loosened her hair from the tight bun at the back of her head, she kept blowing cool air at the tender spot as if she was kindling a fire. Her hair was less silky and stringier thanks to her afternoon visit to her mother's attic, but when she raked her fingers through it a few times it felt fine. Charlie's hands guided her up, her lips to his mouth.

With his hands on her shoulders and her on top of him, they kissed for a while. A few times, he brushed her hair behind her ear. The pressure of his lips on hers ranged from feather light to bruising. It took Dani a good five minutes to realise that the kissing wasn't actually going anywhere. Despite their initial lust, the kissing wasn't going to lead to sex, which was a first for her.

The fiery intensity that they had started out with was gone. In its place, Dani felt a comfortable warmth spreading through her abdomen. She rolled off Charlie and looked at him sideways. How many times had this happened with Kevin? Zero.

It was strange, because she was much more attracted to Charlie than she ever had been to Kevin. Yet, this was nice too. Laying side by side, his fingers tracing imaginary lines across her arm, from the inside of her elbow to her wrist. It was so nice that she almost dozed off.

With a shock, she woke from her light slumber. Perhaps she was just tired. Perhaps she didn't need to jump his bones right this minute because she had enough time left to do that. Like the rest of her life.

'I'm going to take a shower,' she announced, hopping off the bed. The spot above his hipbone was still a bit red. Unperturbed, he lay there with his shirt open, smiling a lopsided grin.

'Want company?'

Trying to return to familiar terrain, she nodded, shrugged out of her jeans and did a slow, sexy walk to the bathroom. It made her feel weird, as if she was putting on an act. It felt... unnecessary: Charlie didn't need a striptease. Feeling self conscious, Dani removed the rest of her clothing, while he did the same.

Simultaneously, they stepped into the steaming shower. Charlie grabbed a washcloth and began to rub it over her back. She was convinced that it wouldn't take him long to move to more interesting areas, but she was wrong. For ten minutes straight, he drew soapy, ever expanding circles on her back. After she overcame her initial frustration at his leisurely tempo, Dani began to enjoy his tentative touches.

He kissed her shoulders and her earlobes; first the right one, then the left one. Sweeping her hair over her shoulder, he placed his hands on her shoulders and his lips caressed her nape. Slowly, he trailed kisses down her spine.

Unable to endure this any longer, she turned around and pinned him to the wall. Feverishly, they kissed and again Dani felt no need to take it to the next level. She was tired, he was tired and sex simply wasn't the objective. Of course, this was thoroughly debunking her physical attraction approach, but she had long since given up on that. However undefined what they were doing was, they were definitely in some sort of relationship.

She allowed him to wash her hair, which turned into a scalp massage. Eventually, when they were wrinkly and clean, they dried themselves off and went to bed. Charlie kissed her and mumbled goodnight.

Dani listened to his breathing and shifted into her usual sleeping position – curled up on her right side. In the semi-darkness, she located his hand. She didn't care a great deal for hands, but his were beautiful. The long fingers, the slender wrists, their strange tenderness. She placed her left hand in his palm and he closed his fingers around it.

'Goodnight, Charlie.'

(***)

Sunday.

The next morning, she woke up with the smell of fruit in her nose. Charlie was still sleeping, so she quietly got out of bed. From the nightstand, she extracted the tape. In the kitchen, she took the walkman of the counter. In the living room, she found a pair of earplugs and then she retreated to the bathroom.

Leaning against the sink, Dani thrust the earplugs into her ears. When she checked the batteries of the walkman, she saw that they were speckled with a few spots of rust, but otherwise fine. The walkman's cassette deck opened with a sharp click. She inserted the tape and pushed the deck shut. All that was left for her to do was to press play.

A doubt came to lie at the back of her mind. What if she was wrong? What if Charlie didn't love her? What if this was just a regular Zen tape; some instructions on how to arrive at inner peace or some such bullshit? What if she offered him her love and he politely declined? She pressed play and anxiously heard how the walkman rattled to life. There was static for a few seconds and then a clear male voice.

'What we learned as children, that one plus one equals two, we know to be false. One plus one equals one. We even have a word for when you plus another equals one. That word is love.'

She stayed in the bathroom for a while. When she went back to the bedroom, she immediately put everything into the nightstand. Charlie opened his eyes when she closed the drawer. She slipped under the sheets and climbed on top of him. He pulled her closer for a kiss. This time it did lead to sex.

Afterwards, in the kitchen they performed what in Dani's eyes seemed like an obnoxious, rehearsed dance routine.

Dani looked in the cupboards for something edible; Charlie brushed past her. She opened the fridge; he nuzzled her neck. She took down the bowls; he smiled at her. She handed him a spoon; he touched her hand. His behaviour reminded her of her mother. Haleh was also extremely affectionate. In the morning, Haleh would rummage around the kitchen, patting Dani's arms, shoulders and head, while Dani blinked at her breakfast and tried to keep her temper. Dani simply wasn't a morning person. She never had been.

Her mother's displays of affection would set her teeth on edge, because Dani didn't like to be touched. Especially not when she was having one of her moods, which in the morning was practically always. She would freeze, but try not to show her annoyance, so as not to hurt her mother. Now she was doing the same with Charlie. The feeling his behaviour created was too mushy and the scene too... _domestic_.

During breakfast – generic cereal; it was all Dani had – Charlie took her father's notebook out of his pocket and browsed through it. Dani poured milk over her cereal, frowned and poked around the bowl with her spoon. The longer his attention remained fixed on the pages of the notebook, the deeper Dani's frown lines became.

'Revenge isn't very Zen,' she eventually remarked. Surprised, Charlie looked up. He saw her soggy, untouched cereal, her knitted brows, and her taciturn demeanour and closed the notebook.

'You're cranky,' he observed. Scowling, she pushed the bowl away.

'That doesn't make it any less true,' Dani snapped.

'It seems a little late to stop now. In fact, thanks to you I think I might know where Rayborn is hiding,' Charlie said and nodded at the notebook. Expectantly, he gazed at her, attempting to gauge her reaction. Dani shoved her chair back. When he didn't move, she tapped her foot impatiently.

'Well, don't just sit there. Your car or mine?'

(***)

That was definitely Rayborn's yacht. The rest of the dock was empty. No witnesses around. Dani checked her Glock. She pressed her lips tightly together as she contemplated the gun. Charlie waited until she was ready. Sighing, she emptied the magazine, slipped the bullets into her pocket and clicked the magazine back into place.

The thought of Rayborn and what he had done got her blood boiling and there was no telling what she would do when she came face to face with the guy. She sure as hell wasn't going to go to jail for killing Mickey fucking Rayborn.

In the chamber, there was still one bullet left, in case he gave her lip. Foot or leg; Dani didn't much care. She could live with the idea of shooting Rayborn without the intent to kill him.

They walked onto the yacht. Rayborn didn't seem thrilled to see them, but he didn't seem scared either. Their visit didn't warrant him getting out of his deck chair in any case.

'Detectives,' he drawled with a faux ingratiating smile. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

Charlie took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. Flecks of light played across the water. Its reflection caused him to squint. Leaning against the railing, he absentmindedly smiled at Rayborn.

'What are the names of the other three men?'

Rayborn's reaction was telling. His eyes flicked from her to Charlie and back in an effort to assess the seriousness of the situation. She coldly stared at him, while Charlie kept smiling pleasantly. Neither of them showed their weapons; it wasn't necessary. Eventually, Rayborn zeroed in on her. Whether he thought he'd have more of a chance if he appealed to her for reason, she couldn't say.

'I see you've brought your little friend,' Rayborn softly said. He was looking at her, but talking to Charlie. Talking about her as if she wasn't there or as if she was dumb: his strategy wasn't earning him any bonus points.

'If you don't answer his question, I'll show you my little friend.'

_And shoot you with it_ was heavily implied. Charlie raised his eyebrows at her in amusement. 'Bad cop?' he mouthed. She shrugged. If the shoe fits. The wind was relatively cold here by the waterside, but Rayborn looked awfully warm. Affecting breeziness when Dani was pretty sure he didn't feel in the least bit breezy, Rayborn chuckled and turned to Charlie again.

'Someone has seen Scarface one too many times,' he said and winked. Calmly, Charlie remained staring at him. The smile around his lips never wavered, which visibly unnerved Rayborn. Dani leaned closer to the sweaty man.

'Someone is underestimating how not Zen I feel about being used as a pawn in a power play between Nevikov and you,' she whispered.

'She's definitely not Zen,' Charlie confirmed. He offered Rayborn a handkerchief. Gratefully, Rayborn accepted and mopped the sweat off his forehead. His eyes were all over the place. Charlie, her, the cabin, the land, the water. He turned towards them and Dani saw that he was smiling.

'You wouldn't kill me.'

God knows how he managed to sound so sure, while Dani wasn't even sure she didn't want to kill him. And Charlie... He looked inscrutable. Part of her thought that he would never do that and another part thought about Nevikov. If provoked, Charlie was certainly capable of murder.

She squatted in front of Rayborn, forcing him to look at her. Her hand brushed against her gun. It felt impossibly light without the bullets. Like a toy gun. With his back to them, Charlie looked out over the water.

'Let me explain something to you. This act we're doing here; it's not an act. I'm all for killing you, but Crews is a good person. See, Crews here was shot and then he went and shot the guy who tried to kill him with the same bullet. Now, while I might think that's terribly cute; I don't play the pass the bullet game. If I shoot you, you won't be returning anything to me.'

Trying to gain Charlie's attention and failing, Rayborn finally reconciled himself with the thought that they might actually kill him if he didn't give them what they wanted. Yet, he stayed obstinately silent. Suddenly, Charlie spoke.

'I know what you're thinking; you're thinking of Ms. Puryer. On the off chance that she is watching, though, I'm confident that if I ask very nicely I can convince her not to hand a tape of what happens here to the police.'

This shook Rayborn. Unperturbed, Charlie turned to admire the view again. Dani straightened up and sighed. Rayborn just needed the tiniest of pushes. Just a glimpse of how easy it would be for them. She cleared her throat and laid it out for him.

'Also, here's the thing: as of now you are developing a bit of a habit of getting killed. Since your previous shenanigans, I think the police would like some solid proof this time that you're actually dead before they launch another expensive murder investigation. Something like, say, your body. There won't be one. Just off the top of my head, Crews has got coyotes in his back yard. Done.'

She allowed Rayborn some time to mull over his options.

So, she was really really really pissed off at Mickey Rayborn and Roman Nevikov and their damn games that got other people killed. She wanted to shoot him for sitting here on his yacht and joking when he had ruined Charlie's life and gotten numerous people killed. But she'd shoot him in the leg; apparently she _did_ play the pass the bullet game, because she wasn't about to commit murder. However, there was a sort of line and while she explained to Rayborn how they would go about killing him, she realised how easy it would be to cross it.

The line was neither as far away nor as clearly defined as she had imagined it. This man sitting before her: he was a murderer. He deserved to die. Dani had committed worse sins than the sin it would be to kill Rayborn. Behind her, Charlie shifted. He appeared relaxed, but there was something tense in his gaze. Something cold.

Of course, she was pretty sure they weren't going to cross that line, but - like nearly everything with Charlie - she wasn't entirely sure. The look in his eyes indicated that he was seriously considering it and she believed it. She'd understand if he did do it. There was a, for lack of a better word, darkness there that she recognised. Underneath all the Zen that he wanted to believe and which he needed to cover up the darkness, because it made everything make more sense and perhaps hurt less.

Courtesy of Jack Reese, she couldn't remember a time when there hadn't been darkness in her. Charlie, on the other hand, had gotten 25 years of blissful ignorance until he got a taste of his own darkness. It must have come as quite a shock too. Happily married, a spotless career, a bar with his friend: it was all light and good. A charmed life, until Mickey Rayborn and Jack Reese had happened. Like Roman Nevikov had happened to her, except by that time there had been very little left to destroy.

Darkness was an old friend of hers. From time to time she checked back in to see how it was doing. Nowadays, it was mostly curled up, asleep.

Being a cop, Charlie naturally would have known about man's hidden nature, but probably not its depth. Prison must have educated him in that respect.

Her thoughts were drifting, which was only natural. Things like that happened when you were standing on a yacht with your partner and he was deciding whether or not to kill one of your father's friends. With some trouble, she pulled herself together. Rayborn's eyes were calculating, but if he believed them there were only two choices: talk or die. Dani leaned closer.

'So, how about you answer my partner's fucking question?'

He told them the names of the three other guys involved in the conspiracy to turn Charlie into their next crime lord. Charlie wrote them down.

Back in the car, she discovered that she was glancing at Charlie every few seconds. Finally, she swerved into a side road, drove until she couldn't see the main road anymore and parked the car. She could hear only crickets and the sound of her own breath. She could see only high grass, more yellow than green, boxing them in on all sides.

'What's your plan?' she asked.

'I don't know,' he admitted. She could see that the idea that his unresolved shit would soon be resolved shit was still in the process of slowly sinking in.

'Want to hear mine? For right now?' she offered. A tad bemused, he nodded. With a little manoeuvring, she managed to sit in his lap. She undid his belt.

'I like this plan,' he murmured, slipping his hands under her shirt and cupping her breasts. Roughly, she grinded against him, eliciting a deep groan from Charlie.

'Thought you might.'

(***)

After their long interlude in the countryside, they were dressing. It was warm in the car, so she rolled down a window. The air was filled with the strong scent of hay. Dani watched as he pushed each button through its corresponding hole. She liked watching him. She liked how he could be an open book and an enigma at the same time.

'I listened to the tape you gave me,' she said. One button between his fingers, ready to be returned to its place, Charlie waited for her to elaborate, so she did. 'It featured some seriously questionable mathematics.'

'One plus one equals one?' Charlie ventured, resuming the buttoning of his shirt.

'Yup,' she said. She wasn't wrong. She knew she wasn't wrong, even if she feared that she might be. 'But it's how I feel too, you know. About us.'

Forgetting about buttons and dressing and their surroundings completely, he looked up. Her heart was doing that thing to indicate that she cared as he searched her face. Like he had done that day in the orange grove when he had killed Roman. Like he had done a few weeks later when he had tried to tell her that he loved her. Or so she thought, because she hadn't let him finish.

'We are questionable?'

'No, that's not what I mean.'

Bastard. He was trying to make her say it. The chirping of the crickets swelled to a crescendo. As they remained locked in the sounds of the insects' concert, Charlie started to smile. It began at the corners of his mouth and eventually reached his eyes. Though she tried, Dani couldn't resist the infectious nature of his happiness and smiled too.

'Aw, you love me,' he teased.

'Yes, I do,' she responded. This surprised him, but most of all her. He narrowed his eyes and waited for her to take it back. Stoically, she stared at him until he believed that she wasn't going to retract anything.

'I love you too, Reese,' he said, quietly. So softly that she would have thought she was making it up if it weren't for the expression on his face. No trace of nervousness or regret; just relief at finally being able to say it.

'Dani,' she prompted.

'I love you, Dani.'

'I love you, Charlie.'

(***)

Monday.

'Gold dust woman,' Charlie mumbled. He was kneeling next to the body of a naked model. It was covered in a fine coating of yellow, partly crystallised powder, the smell of which made Dani feel edgy. A couple of the forensic guys looked at her for an explanation of her partner's cryptic comment. She rolled her eyes.

'It's called angel dust, Crews. Maybe you should just stick to PCP. And why do you always have to do that?' she asked. He got to his feet, flashing her a smile that she found far more charming than she should have.

'Do what?'

'Voice some catchy but nonsensical phrase, as if we're starring in a cop show. Like the theme music is going to start up next. Any day now, I expect you to take off your sunglasses or put them on in the middle of sentences,' she rambled and caught herself as she was about to put on her sunglasses. Then she thought, fuck the irony, and put them on anyway.

'What?'

If he was feigning innocence then it was a really good imitation. Knowing Charlie, though, he was probably truly clueless.

'Like David Caruso,' Dani added, but he continued to level an uncomprehending look her way. 'On CSI: Miami? You don't watch TV.'

'I don't watch TV,' he happily confirmed. They looked at the drugs, the murder victim, her lack of clothing; it made for a weird case. But then again, her partner was weird too, so it was kind of fitting.

'Well, he's annoying and a redhead like you,' she explained. It sounded rather final, because she was trying to end their nonsense conversation. Back to the case at hand, she thought, but Charlie didn't pick up on her tone.

'Is he pretty like me?'

She glared at him. By now, she had the feeling that the conversation was attracting some unwanted attention. The medical examiner was hovering over the body, the forensic investigators were dutifully labelling evidence and a few uniformed police officers were standing around, but they were all suspiciously quiet.

'You're pretty, alright. Pretty stupid,' she said. Bobby Stark grinned at her and nudged one of the other lower ranking men. They laughed, but not at her. At Charlie, who took it with good humour. A few minutes later, in the car to headquarters, he decided to ramp up the obscurity.

'All we have to do now is take these lies and make them true.'

Her face must have been one giant question mark, because he immediately tried to clarify his statement.

'Freedom 90 by George Michael.'

That only served to turn the question mark into a _what the fuck_?

'So?' she queried. Charlie seemed to have lost the thread of the conversation too.

'I thought we were doing pop culture references,' he admitted, sheepishly. Dani shook her head and sighed.

'We're not_ doing_ anything. And at least mine was up to date. George Michael; really?'

When they arrived back at headquarters, Dani had worked out that Charlie's sheepishness had been cleverly calculated and he hadn't lost sight of anything. It was as if he was trying to slip a subliminal message into their conversation. I mean, come on, Dani thought: _take these lies and make them true_? Plus, he knew absolutely nothing about pop culture nor had he ever shown any interest in it.

Clearly, he was referring to the rumours that were probably still circulating about them. Them as a couple, which she supposed they technically were now. What she didn't quite understand, however, was what he expected of her. A sweeping declaration of love in front of everyone? Never going to happen.

She already felt uncomfortable about telling Charlie that she loved him. It was way out of her comfort zone. Allowing herself to be vulnerable, giving someone the possibility of rejecting her. In addition, it was so cloyingly sweet. Horribly, horribly corny.

Perhaps he wanted her to sign Tidwell's absurd form, but she didn't want to do that either. In fact, the minute they entered the squad room, she marched over to her desk, plucked the form from one of her drawers and slinked into Tidwell's office.

Tidwell looked up, rather amazed at her sudden appearance. Without further ado, she dropped the form on his desk.

'Yes, we're together. No, I'm not putting it in writing. Deal with it.'

Strangely, when she exited his office, he looked satisfied, as if he had gotten what he wanted. In a way, he had. Since the kidnapping he had been nagging her to admit that there was something going on between her and Charlie. Now he had gotten her to admit that she was in a relationship, which was more than she had ever said about the two of them when they had been dating. Who knew Tidwell was such a master manipulator?

'I don't give a shit about what other people think,' she muttered, plonking down in her chair. It rotated a little to reveal Charlie and his raised eyebrows. Three or four people were standing by the water cooler, talking. Tidwell was looking at her with a puzzled expression on his face. A dozen other people were scattered around the room, doing whatever it was they were doing.

After careful consideration, Dani decided that Charlie's eyebrows were mocking her. They were needlessly reminding her of her angry outburst when she had first found out about the rumours. Disagreeing with her statement that she didn't care. Daring her to prove it.

'Get up,' she ordered. Charlie got to his feet in a hurry. There was something weirdly adorable about him when he so faithfully obeyed her commands. Not that she would ever admit that. Also, it made her want to tear off his clothes, throw him down on a desk and have her way with him. _That_ she would admit.

'I don't do hints or subtlety, so tell me. Care to make it official?' she asked, advancing on him. Mutely, he nodded. Public displays of affection were not in her character. To be honest, she abhorred them, especially in the workplace. Yet... just to be clear.

Dani wound Charlie's tie around her fist and pulled him down. Then she kissed him. If she had been listening, she would have heard that all conversation stopped. She would have seen people looking away in embarrassment and others craning their necks to get a closer look. She would have seen Tidwell smiling before he resumed his paperwork.

The reason she didn't hear any of this, was because other things were drowning out the silence. Blood rushing through her veins. Her own heart thumping painfully in her chest. The sound of Charlie's accelerated heartbeat. Her eyes were closed. She couldn't have been more in the moment if she'd tried.

If it had been up to him they would still have been kissing next week, so she broke away. From rumour to truth. From partner to lover. And damn it, she was going to enjoy every second of it. People were staring, snickering.

'See? I couldn't care less,' she said as she sat down. Except about you.

The end.

(***)

**Author's note: Hope you enjoyed reading it. I know I really enjoyed writing it. Check out my other Life story 'Handle with Care' also on , if you feel so inclined. And thanks for all the wonderful reviews!**


End file.
